CHAPTER 30
"What do you think, Wood?" Benjy asked, as Oliver stopped just short of him. Oliver marveled at the outdoor pitch that they stood on, looking around. He spotted the best of the best players in the League, all warming up.
"'S magnificent," Oliver said, his eyes gleaming with joy.
"Yeah, 's quite alright, innit? I did the trials four years ago… made it through two rounds but didn't make it any further," Benjy said back.
"What do you make of our chances? I can't believe Diggory Eberhardt is here. Brilliant keeper, don't you think? I can't believe I'm here with him," Oliver asked, his eyes ready to fall out of his head with excitement.
"Oh shut it, Wood. The humble attitude may get Zhao all hot and bothered but it won't work with me, mate. You deserve to be here just as much as everyone else," Benjy answered, playfully shoving his teammate.
"I'm not-! It's not that-, well, I just… I don't know. This is all finally real, you know? Everyone here's so good and well, how could they even pick between all of us?" Oliver asked, absolutely puzzled.
Benjy shrugged, "Can't think too much of that, Wood. Everyone here is exceptional. You've just got to do your best. A lot of it comes down to how you play with the others. Sometimes players have already been selected and if you don't fit in with the rest? Well, better luck next go round."
Oliver nodded. He knew a lot the selections could be political but he couldn't believe that he was here. He couldn't believe that he had been selected to try out for the national team and wasn't planning on wasting the chance.
"Right," he mumbled, as the two sat down, switching out their street shoes for their quidditch boots. As they slid on their shin guards and boots over, Oliver took the time to see who else was there. Everyone in the League who was good was here. They had just seen each other at the end of last year at the ball. What a way to start the new year.
"Hello, everyone," a voice sounded, grabbing every player in the room's attention. A small woman accompanied by two men made their way to the center of the pitch, a wand to her throat amplifying her voice with the sonorous charm.
"My name is Mathilda Bernabei and I am proud to be taking over as Chair this year of the National Team. My cohorts, Marcus McConnell and William Perth will be running you through drills this morning. We will be recording times, speeds, and distances. Then later this afternoon, we will play two scrimmage games. If you are not on a team today, you will play in a scrimmage game tomorrow. Some of you will play twice, maybe three times this weekend. Best in skill to all of you," she said.
The dark haired man next to her cleared his throat before pointing his wand at his throat, "My name is William Perth and I will be coaching you through your warm up drills. McConnell here will be recording scores. Grab your brooms. We'll start with three laps around the pitch to warm up then five for time."
"You've got fifteen minutes… then we'll begin," Marcus, the red haired man instructed, earning nods and murmurs from the players. Oliver and Benjy hurried to finish suiting up for the beginning of their trial.
With the blow of a whistle, the trials had begun! Oliver sped down the pitch as the warm up laps had finished. He had taken his time with the warm up laps, making sure his body weight was perfectly distributed over the broom so that he could maximize his speed. He wanted it to be just right. With the sound of the whistle, he pulled ahead of the two beaters from the Wanderers, right behind Benjy and the seeker for the Harpies.
"STILL think you can keep up, Wood?" Benjy called out to his friend behind him.
"That a challenge, Williams?" Wood shot back.
Benjy only laughed to himself before pulling ahead. Oliver laughed, shaking his head, then shifting his body weight to turn the broom around the curved side of the pitch. He glanced just for a second behind him to see the rest of the players behind him, and only a few players in front of him.
That's two. Third lap, push 15% more, Oliver thought to himself.
As a keeper, he didn't often get to show off his speed. He attributed his quick reflexes as a keeper and fast reaction time to all of the speed training, but never used it for long distance like a chaser would. Last lap. 15% faster. He was pushing the pace to a place that was slightly uncomfortable, knowing that he'd be done in a moment. Coming up behind a chaser from the Chuddley Cannons, he dipped quickly underneath, rotating his broom to flip him upside down, then rightside up, streaking ahead.
Oliver could hear the click of the timer which only inspired him to keep going. He was determined to beat the clock and the countdown only pushed him. Just one last moment and he had completed his last lap. He began to slow down, lowering his broomstick towards the pitch, hovering just above the ground with Benjy, the Harpies seeker, and two chasers, both from different teams.
"You ever play as a chaser, Wood?" McConnell asked, staring up at the hovering players.
Oliver shook his head, "Just for fun every now and then."
McConnell raised an eyebrow, noting down the very impressive time, "Looking forward to seeing your reaction time." Oliver smiled to himself, satisfied, knowing that he had impressed the scout. As more and more players touched down, barely hovering off the ground.
"Now that you're all warm, we'll be running drills. Beaters first. All of you that play the position, please assume position in the air as two single file lines," Mathilda ordered. William Perth had mounted his broom, the case holding the bludgers strapped to his back, bat in hand. "Perth here will be testing your reaction time as well as power in your swing. You will have three goes at it. The rest of you can stay low to the ground till it is your turn. Once we've run drills, we will break for lunch and place you on teams for the scrimmage."
As soon as Oliver spotted the quaffle coming his way, catapulted towards him by the strong armed Chase Corley of the Kestrels, he zoomed to the tallest hoop, catching the quaffle in his arms. He hugged it to his chest, throwing it right back into the game. He could see McConnell and Bernabei scribbling notes away while William Perth watched the game closely.
"Wood, watch out!" Benjy cried out to him as soon as he saw a bludger coming his way. Oliver dodged it, nearly missing his head by a few centimeters.
He was glad that Benjy was on his scrimmage game. They were used to playing together and he could only hope that the scouts would take notice of how well they played together. He was also just happy to have one familiar part of all of this. Tryouts for Puddlemere had been similar, but after graduation, Oliver had left on a high. Gryffindor had finally won the House Cup and he was feeling, well, arrogant as he walked into those tryouts. He knew he was damn good and wasn't afraid to show it. But this was a whole different level. This was the best of the best in the League.
He watched as Benjy zipped around the pitch in search of the snitch, spotting it and making a sprint towards it, the other seeker following behind. But he couldn't let it distract him. Oliver was focused on the quaffle as another chaser made her way down the pitch, eager to score on Oliver Wood. He quickly swatted this quaffle away back into the game with the butt of his broom, a signature move he loved to use from school. He knew he was playing well. He always knew when he was playing well and this? He was on fire.
"Alright, spill, Wood. Your first National Team tryout. How d'you think you did?" Benjy asked as the two casually cheersed. With beers in hand, both Benjy and Oliver were asked to play again the next day and had decided to hit up the Leaky Cauldron to unwind.
"You really wanna know?" Oliver asked back.
"Course, mate," Benjy answered.
"I think we did a damn smashing good job," Oliver said, proudly.
"See, I knew there was more to ya than all that humble pie," Benjy commenting, laughing as he raised his beer glass to his lips.
"'S not that. It's just… you know how it is, mate. You know when you're playing well. Everything stops and you're just in this… I dunno how to explain it. Uninterruptible flow. You know?" Oliver started.
Benjy nodded, encouraging his friend to keep going.
"It's like you focus, you zero in, and the only thing in that moment that matters is the task at hand. It's that feeling… like you almost know what's coming before it happens and you're right there to block the quaffle. Or when you see the snitch before the other seeker and nothing else matters in that moment. You'll do whatever it takes. It's almost like the broom takes over and flies for you, you know? Blimey, call me a sap but, it's games like today where I know I was meant to do this."
Benjy nodded slowly, "Yeah. 'S exactly it."
"How about you?" Oliver asked.
"What?" Benjy asked back.
"I dunno. Second tryout. Think your odds are good or what?" Oliver asked, curiously.
Benjy shrugged, "Dunno. Think so. They'd be missing out if they don't pick me." Oliver laughed at his friend's arrogance.
"I'm just glad to be here is all," Oliver said.
Benjy rolled his eyes, "Not again with that. I think your chances are high."
"You think so?" Oliver asked, hopeful.
"McConnell can't take his eyes off you every time you get on the damn broom. If you asked me, I'd say Gen's got some competition," Benjy joked. Oliver rolled his eyes playfully.
"She'd find that funny," Oliver chuckled.
"Speaking of. Incoming," Benjy said, coughing to try to hide his words. The two straightened up as a gaggle of giggling girls walked towards the table in the Leaky Cauldron.
"So sorry," one of them said, trying to hide her giggles.
"But we were just wondering," the girl in the middle continued.
"If you two would sign our copy of Witch Weekly," the last girl said, handing over the cover of her magazine and a quill and placing it down on the table. Benjy, who was much more used to and comfortable with the fame that came with being a quidditch player, smiled his charming smile, taking the magazine and sliding it over to himself.
"Of course. And who should I make this out to?" he asked, flirtatiously.
"Blair," the first girl said, blushing as Benjy winked at her.
"Samantha, tell him," the girl with the magazine said, nudging their friend in the middle.
The girl they called Samantha turned bright red, looking down, then finally looking back up, right at Oliver. The whole thing made Oliver uncomfortable and he had noticed that the more frequently he was featured in the papers, the more fans had started approaching him.
"She just wanted to say," Blair said, encouraging her friend.
"That she's-," the third girl began.
"Stop it! I can, I'll do it, dammit," Samantha said, cutting her friend off. "Well, I'd really love for you to sign my copy of Witch Weekly as well. I'm-, I'm a big fan."
"She'd like for you to do more than that," her friend snickered.
"Davina, shut it!" she exclaimed, once again, turning an even deeper shade of red.
"She's a huge OllieFan," Blair explained, rolling her eyes at her friend Davina.
"Thank you," Oliver murmured, unsure of what to say back.
"Sorry to disappoint, ladies, but the man is still happily taken," Benjy said, earning a groan of disappointment from Davina and Blair.
"Better luck next time," Benjy said, winking once more at the girls.
Oliver quickly scribbled his autograph of the moving photo of him - a profile done on each Puddlemere United player - before handing it over to Samantha.
"Thank you," she blushed, avoiding eye contact out of embarrassment.
"You're welcome," Oliver replied, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He smiled a very unsure smile back at the girl before the three took their magazine and left. As soon as they were out of earshot, Benjy guffawed uncontrollably.
"What?!"
"Ohhh mate, you've got so much to learn about interacting with fans. Reeeaaaal smooth," Benjy teased.
"I'm not sure what the hell I'm bloody supposed to do!" Oliver said, starting to turn a shade of red himself.
"You flirt just a little. You say thank you for supporting the team and the support. C'mon! Don't tell me you've learned nothing in all the time we've known each other," Benjy prodded.
"It's just… I don't know. I can't do it like you and honestly, I don't know if I want to," Oliver pointed out. It was certainly not his style. That's for sure.
"Well, next time, just pretend you're talking to Zhao," Benjy suggested.
"No, no," Oliver said, shaking his head. "That's different! She's… no I don't think that would work."
"Why not?" Benjy asked.
"Because. She's… that's different. Is all," Oliver answered.
"She is. That's for sure," Benjy agreed.
"What?" Oliver asked.
"Different. Exceptional woman, really," Benjy answered.
Oliver laughed, "Yeah. This isn't news to me, Williams. You'd at least have a shot at a secret love affair if you didn't flirt with her every time I'm around."
"To be fair, I flirt with her when you're not around too," Benjy pointed out, playfully.
Oliver rolled his eyes, "Yeah, like she'd waste her time on a bloke like you."
Benjy laughed, "Even fairer point." He took another sip of his beer. "It's all in good fun, Wood. You know that. And Zhao's a good sport about it too. But I'd never do that to you. To anyone really. Not to a close mate. Not at all."
"I do. I appreciate it, Williams," Oliver replied, taking another sip of his beer as well. "So. What happens next? We play tomorrow in the scrimmage… and then what?"
"Then? We do the hardest part, Wood. We wait to hear back," Benjy sighed.
A/N: I wanted to do a story focused a little more on quidditch and wanted to challenge myself for an ALL Oliver chapter. It was fun to explore a big part of their lives that is NOT the love story.