Not a Waste
Oliver Wood prided himself on his observant eye. His keen sense of awareness for what happened around him was why he was Keeper for the Gryffindor team in the first place. As Keeper, he had to have his eyes on everything, and as captain, it meant his eye had to be on everyone at all times. It came in handy when he was making plays, strategizing where to place his teammates on the pitch. When something happened with the team that impacted how they played, anything that affected their performance negatively, he noticed, even when they thought he didn't realize.
Which was why, during this particular practice, he kept his watchful eye on Harry, who was on the edge of the pitch scouring for the Snitch.
They were practicing for their game against Ravenclaw. Besides the Slytherins, Ravenclaw was their biggest competition. They were creative with their strategies, always doing something tricky and different. They were witty and sharp; their playstyle meant they used their analytical brains first. Oliver oftentimes shuddered to think what tricks they could pull up their sleeves, because it was always something different. He knew how Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw captain, thought; he was the youngest captain Hogwarts had, he being two years younger than Wood. That meant, Oliver felt immense pressure to outdo Davies.
But judging from the way this practice was going, he doubted they'd have much success against Ravenclaw.
His watchful eye stayed on Harry. For most of the practices, Harry didn't say much. He just simply did as he was told, staying away from everyone and looking for the Snitch. But even so, Oliver saw Harry's attention was off, as if he wasn't putting in the usual amount of effort. Harry's green eyes, normally so vibrant during practice, were dull as he just circled the pitch, looking for the small, golden ball.
He thought back to when Harry offered to resign. Harry had claimed it might make it easier on everyone; after all, the Weasley twins and the girls were giving him the cold shoulder due to him having lost them 150 points. Everyone was ignoring him. Wood heard Angelina, Katie, and Alicia snidely call Harry "the Seeker," refusing to even call him by his name, well, Angelina more than Katie and Alicia (Katie and Alicia were the soft ones and just simply stuck to being quiet). He noticed the way Fred and George would ignore Harry on and off the pitch.
But Harry was still their most valuable member. Oliver couldn't afford to lose him. He was their chance at beating Ravenclaw. But still, judging from the way Harry was this practice, Oliver could see that the excitement that used to shine in Harry's eyes had dimmed.
He silently contemplated calling for a time-out. He needed to make sure that Harry was paying attention, especially as he noticed the glint of gold. Harry noticed, too, but even as he chased after the ball, Oliver noticed the way the eleven-year-old's shoulders remained slumped over. He also noticed one of the Bludgers coming right in Harry's direction. Why weren't Fred or George covering him?!
Before Oliver could yell, "Watch yeself, Harry!" the Bludger rammed itself directly into Harry, hitting him across the cheek and the side of his nose. Red spilled from Harry's nose as he fell several feet from the ground. As Harry landed on the grass in a loud thud, Wood blew his whistle shrilly.
"TIME OUT!" he yelled at everyone as he flew downward and onto the pitch, dismounting as he knelt near Harry, who lay on the ground with his eyes squeezed shut. His glasses had snapped in half and were lying a few feet away, his jaw was deeply bruised and already swelling up, and his nose bled profusely, spilling over onto his robes.
Oliver leaned forward to examine Harry's clearly-broken nose, whispered to him, "Harry? Are ye okay?"
Harry shook his head negatively, not that Wood could blame him. Looking up towards Fred and George, Wood rounded on them. "Where were ye two? Ye should've been covering 'im out there!" he scorned.
At least Fred and George had it in them to look ashamed. "Sorry, Wood," said Fred sincerely.
"Yeah, we were headed there when it hit him," George said.
"Al'ight, I think we've had enough for this morning," Oliver decided, helping Harry to sit up before pulling his wand out, muttering, "Scourgify." The blood washed away from Harry's nose, but it still looked swollen and bruised beyond measure.
"Okay, when's next practice?" asked Angelina, at least having it in her to look sympathetic for Harry's condition.
Oliver turned on Angelina. "I don't think we're in any shape to practice much more," he said coolly. "This is the fifth time ye guys haven't been working together! The hell, guys! We're a team, here. That means everyone needs to work with each other. Get your heads in the game! Keep going at this rate, there's not a chance we'll gain those house points back."
"But we have been working together," argued Angelina.
"If ye had been, ye'd be making sure Harry's safe out there and ye would be treating him like he's part of the team!" snapped Wood as he saw more blood slowly trickling down Harry's nose. He leaned a hand on his shoulder bracingly. "Al'ight? I won't tolerate this! I'm not having Harry resign; we don't have a reserve Seeker and no way we'll be able to get one in time. Work with 'im, quit treating him like he's nonexistent, or else I'll replace every last one of ye!"
Angelina's dark complexion paled significantly. "You wouldn't," she whispered.
"Yeah, I would, and don't think I won't find a way," Wood said sternly. "Now, c'mon, back to the change rooms. Harry, we need to talk in the captain's office."
Harry nodded, dreading it even as George grabbed his arm, pulling him up. Except without his glasses, Harry was practically blind. Katie pointed her wand at his broken glasses and muttered, "Reparo," before bending down and picking them up, handing them over to Harry who went to place them on his face, only to wince. His broken nose did not want to have anything sitting upon it, much less his glasses.
As they walked towards the change rooms, Harry dreaded what Oliver was going to say. Knowing Wood, it would probably be another lecture about him not being focused, and Harry would go on to mumble something about trying harder. He couldn't help feeling he was letting Wood down.
While the rest of the team went off to wash off, Wood guided Harry into the captain's office. The Gryffindor team captain's office was colored bright scarlet, with a large sofa sitting across from the desk, along with a large chalk board, quills, parchment, spare Quidditch robes, and other equipment. Instantly, Wood sat Harry down and pointed his wand at Harry's nose and jaw, before saying, "Episkey."
Harry was hit with the sensation of his jaw and nose feeling overly hot, then cool. Touching his face, he was relieved to feel that at least the bones were reset. He silently nodded his thanks in Wood's direction. Oliver just pulled up his desk chair and moved it to sit right across from Harry, who was staring down at the floor.
"Harry, I meant what I said. I'm not replacing ye. Ye're the best chance we've got at beating Ravenclaw and getting those house points back," said Wood firmly. "But ye've been off; ye don't do any more than ye have to do and it's like ye're just doing it to be done with it."
"I've caused enough trouble," Harry replied, and Wood could hear his voice cracking. "It's easier if I stay out of the way."
"C'mon, Harry, Angelina's just upset; she'll get over it eventually. Katie and Alicia and Fred and George are slowly getting over it," Oliver tried to assure him.
Harry shook his head. "I doubt it," he said. That was when Wood noticed something sticking from Harry's robes, a piece of paper hand-written on.
"What's that?" he asked.
"The letter I got from my aunt and uncle," Harry whispered. "They never send me mail, unless I really mess something up."
"Let me see that." Wood grabbed the note, and written across the paper in Harry's uncle's handwriting, it said:
Why am I not surprised? This isn't the first time you messed something up for someone. But good thing you weren't expelled like you were at that last school. If you were, we'd be stuck with you and that bird of yours.
Uncle Vernon
Wood's eyes narrowed as he read the letter over. "It wasn't just ye alone," he said firmly. "It was three others, as well. And ye were trying to help a friend; that's not something to punish yeself over, preventing Hagrid from getting 'imself into trouble with that dragon. Besides, ye've got the chance to make it right."
"That's what I'm trying to do." Once again, Wood heard Harry's voice cracking. "But even when I try it's never right."
"C'mon don't be thick, kid. Ye won us the matches against Slytherin and Hufflepuff, your grades are substantial enough for ye to keep playing Quidditch, ye're the best Seeker we've ever had since Charlie Weasley. This was only your first infraction," Oliver said gently. "Besides who told ye that?"
"I think it's obvious."
Wood glanced back at the letter from Harry's uncle. The words "expelled like you were at that last school" and "we'd be stuck with you" danced before Wood's eyes as he realized.
"Ye're not a waste of space, ye know that, right?" he whispered.
Harry's silence was the answer Wood needed. Swallowing hard, Oliver just replied with, "Well, your aunt and uncle are full of rubbish. Ye're one of the most level-headed eleven-year-olds I've seen, your time on the Quidditch pitch proves that . . ."
"And before coming here I released a boa constrictor on my cousin and made glass disappear," Harry mumbled.
"That was your powers acting up; ye didn't have control over 'em," said Wood kindly. "A lot of us have had similar stuff happen before we came to Hogwarts."
"Not like I did," Harry argued.
"Maybe not, but same difference," Oliver said firmly.
"But still, I'm impulsive. I act without thinking," Harry listed off.
"And yet ye do everything with noble intent," offered Oliver, keeping his voice as gentle as possible. "Ye did the right thing. Maybe not as a student. But as a friend. Ye shouldn't beat yeself up."
Harry went silent at that. Wood could tell that Harry was still blaming himself for his teammates being mad at him, for everyone in the school resenting him, Hermione, and Neville. And it left Wood asking a lot of internal questions, especially as he thought about that letter Harry got from his uncle. Did Harry intentionally not move away from the Bludger because he felt he deserved to get hurt? The thought left Wood feeling nauseous, but he had to ask it.
"Harry, did ye stay in the way of that Bludger because ye think ye should be punished, like physically?"
Harry's silence spoke louder than words. Wood swore silently. He knew from his first practice with Harry that the kid probably wasn't used to being showered with the glowing praise Wood gave him. But Oliver never suspected that the reason why was because Harry was so used to being punished no matter what he tried to do. He had to let Harry know that his teammates weren't ever going to treat him like how his aunt and uncle probably treated him, that as long as Harry was at school, he had the team, that they would be the family he was in need of.
As captain, Wood saw it as his duty to step up and almost act as a father/older brother that the team could look to. And right now, Harry needed that.
"Listen to me, Harry. If those muggles ever tell ye ye're a waste of space again, don't think on it for one minute. Ye're worth more than they ever will be. They'll never be what ye are, and they hate that. And that's their problem, not yours. Ye're doing well in almost all your classes, and ye're superb on the Quidditch pitch, the best Seeker we've ever had. Ye are doing a great job." Wood laced as much conviction into his voice as possible. He needed to make sure Harry knew that.
Harry just nodded again. Wood wasn't sure if Harry entirely believed it, but the small smile appearing on his lips was an answer, no less.
"C'mere," Wood murmured, leaning forward and pulling Harry close, hugging him firmly and ruffling his already-mussed hair. "We love ye so much."
The wetness he felt on his neck was the only response he needed.
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