Chapter 4:
"Mr. Wood," said Puddlemere's recruitment coach, Dan Biggerstaff, "are you certain this is what you want? Not many get an opportunity like you have to get to play reserve, especially right out of Hogwarts. You've got raw talent. I'd hate to see you waste it."
Oliver Wood looked at the resignation papers before him, knowing he needed to sign his name on them. It pained him physically and made his stomach ache. Giving up his dream, the career he'd been working towards since his second year at Hogwarts, wasn't easy for the young man to swallow. His mouth tasted bitter, a sign that he was about to vomit.
Nonetheless, he also knew this was a necessary evil. The Order needed him. Dumbledore needed him at Hogwarts. And above all, Harry needed to know he had someone else in his corner.
"I'm certain, sir," Oliver said, swallowing hard. "But this isn't the end for me. It's just for a year. After this year's up, I'll be back. I swear."
"Don't count on it, Wood. There could be someone better than you," Coach Biggerstaff reminded him.
"I know," Oliver said firmly. "But I'm confident ye won't find it easy to replace me."
Coach Biggerstaff regarded him with a smile. "That's why we've picked you in the first place. Good luck, Mr. Wood."
Oliver managed a smile, picking up the quill and signing his name on the papers. Upon seeing his name there, he rose from the seat and shook hands with the coach. He exited the office, still feeling a bit sick at the thought of having quit professional Quidditch.
But it's worth it, he thought as he left the office of Puddlemere United, and headed a little ways down the street to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink and some lunch. And as he took his seat at the bar and placed his order for a corned beef sandwich and a glass of butterbeer, he saw something from the corner of his eye. A flash of red hair, horn-rimmed glasses, and a traveling cloak.
Clenching his fists, he hoped and prayed that Percy Weasley wasn't going to try speaking to him. He didn't want to talk to, much less see his old roommate. Not that he and Percy were that close at all. In fact, Percy had been completely unlikable and unbearable by the time they reached seventh year, when Percy was made Head Boy. Now that he was Junior Assistant to the Minister, Wood felt sick with rage. He felt this urge to jump up from his chair and hex the Weasley brother.
It'd serve that prat right, he thought. Fuck, and he's coming this way. I thought I made it clear I'm not talking to 'im until he realizes what he did.
Wood kept his gaze on the bar, waiting for his drink to arrive. And when Percy slid in the chair next to him, he ground out, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't hex your sorry arse right now."
Percy just replied with, "It's not my fault you're not seeing it."
Oliver let out derisive laughter. "Ye're delusional!" he said, shaking his head.
"Coming from the prat who obsessed over winning the Quidditch cup for three years," Percy said.
"Don't even compare my desire to win, to ye choosing a power-hungry prat over your own family," Oliver snapped. "Ye should be ashamed of yeself, Percy! Your mam cries every time your name's brought up, ye know? If I ever slammed the door in my mam's face, she'd wring my neck! I wouldn't be able to live with myself! And I would never speak to my father the way ye spoke to your father; I'd get my bum whipped if I ever spoke to 'im like that."
"You don't understand," Percy said stubbornly.
Oliver glared at him. "If ye came here to make excuses, ye can leave! How thick are ye, Percy? Can't ye see Fudge is using ye?!"
"So what if he is?" Percy snapped. "For once I'm succeeding in life! And Dad can't stand that!"
"Shut up with that!" Wood glowered even harder. "Get your head out of your arse, and quit reading that rubbish the Prophet's publishing! Ye Know Who is back!"
"And whose word are ye taking? The delusional, traumatized fifteen-year-old?" Percy asked.
Oliver glared at him even harder. Hearing Percy dismiss Harry like this didn't sit well with him at all.
"Yeah, I am," Oliver said fiercely. "Because ye should know Harry better than that! The kid spent whole summers in your home! He saved your little sister's life! Or did ye forget that? But I suppose ye were too busy screaming, 'Listen, I'm Head Boy!' to even bother!"
Before Percy could even continue, Oliver was on a roll. He continued to rave.
"Harry's not an attention-seeking brat!" Oliver hissed. "He earned his way onto the Gryffindor team because he's got raw talent! He didn't ask to be famous! He did nothing to stop Ye Know Who! His mother died saving 'im! If ye think for one moment he loves being famous for that, ye are off your rocker!"
Percy's glare darkened. "You best be careful talking like that, Wood."
"And what are ye gonna do?" retorted Wood. "Report me to Fudge? If it were up to the Minister, your dad would lose his job!"
Percy was about to retort, but Oliver cut him off once more with, "Your family's priceless, Percy. They're irreplaceable. Wait until something happens, that your dad or your mam ends up in hospital, or one of your brothers, or your sister, God forbid! Leaving them the way ye did, prioritizing work over them? I would never do that!"
"Penelope tried telling me the same thing," Percy grumbled.
"Let me guess? She broke it off?" Wood asked, feeling worse for Penelope Clearwater than he did for his old friend. "Can't say I blame 'er. I wondered for the longest time why she put up with an attention-seeking git like ye! And I can't say I'm shocked that ye did this! Sticking your nose in the air to anyone below ye. Showing off with that stupid Head Boy badge our seventh year. Shouting from the rooftops about ye being Prefect all throughout fifth year. Snogging Penelope every chance ye got in front of everyone in seventh year. Bragging about your OWL scores. Fred and George had the right idea. Ye are a pin-head! And ye make me sick!"
Percy went white-faced very briefly, before his cheeks turned as red as his hair. He turned on his heel and he stalked out of the bar, fuming. But Oliver felt pretty satisfied with what he'd said. They were repressed thoughts he'd withheld for years about Percy Weasley. And it was high time someone said something.
As his glass of butterbeer appeared before him, Wood took a long sip from the butterscotch-flavored alcohol. Sighing, he watched as his sandwich was served. But after his argument with Percy, he found he couldn't stomach his lunch. Sighing, he said to Tom, "I'll take it to go, please."
Tom nodded, reaching forward to package the corned beef sandwich and chips. Sighing, Oliver thought of the others at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, wondering how they were making progress with cleaning.
Katie Bell shook her head as she carefully lifted the locket and placed it among the items that were being kept. She had to keep her scarf wrapped tightly around her mouth and nose and gloves on her hands throughout her cleaning duties. Between spraying doxies, and needing to dust furniture, she was at her wits end with cleaning.
"Sirius," she groaned, "I wish Kreacher would give us some help here."
"Kreacher's already displeased that you're all sullying his beloved mistress's house," Sirius said with a roll of his eyes.
"Well, at least we're almost done here in the drawing room," sighed Angelina, lowering her shirt down from her mouth and nose as she rose to her feet. But as she looked around the drawing room, she noticed the patterns stitched into the canvas covering the wall. "Sirius, if you don't mind me asking, what is this?"
"The Black Family tree," explained Sirius as Harry came forward. But Harry's eyes widened as he noticed a particular detail.
"But . . . But you're not on here!" Harry exclaimed.
"Yeah." Sirius pointed to a burnt-out portion of the canvas. "My dear old mum did that, right after I ran away. I hated the lot of them, with their pure-blood mania. And my idiot brother, Regulus, joined the Death Eaters."
"You're kidding!" gasped Ginny as she walked over.
"Oh, come now, Ginny," said Sirius. "Look around you. You should guess what kinds of people my family were."
"But, were all your family members Death Eaters?" asked Alicia quietly.
"No, but they surely thought Voldemort had the right idea," Sirius said. "When I ran away, I was sixteen."
"But where did you go?" asked Ron, who'd come over to join them.
"To Harry's dad's," Sirius explained, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I was always welcomed at the Potters. They sort of adopted me as a second son, until I was old enough to live on my own. Finally found a place with help of some money my uncle Alphard gave me some gold. I see he's not on here, either."
Ron and Ginny both scanned the canvas, seeing the name "Prewett" on there, but burnt off completely. "But that's Mum's maiden name!" exclaimed Ginny.
"All pure-blood families are related to one another in some capacity," Sirius said, trailing his finger along to the names "Malfoy" and "Longbottom." "I see Tonks isn't on here, either. Well, her mother, Andromeda, was always my favorite cousin, but she married a Muggleborn, Ted Tonks, so . . ."
"And Bellatrix Lestrange, and Narcissa Malfoy?" whispered Harry.
"Does it matter if they're my cousins?" Sirius asked in a sour voice. "Bellatrix was always deranged. So, I wasn't surprised she went on to be a Death Eater. She's still locked in Azkaban for what she'd done."
"Well, what did she do that was so bad?" asked Angelina tentatively.
Harry remained silent at that. Of course, he knew why Bellatrix was locked up. He'd seen the memory in Dumbledore's pensieve, when he'd witnessed the trial of Barty Crouch Jr. who'd tormented Neville's parents into madness.
Sirius swallowed hard. "That's for another time," he said. "Well, I see the name 'Wood' isn't on here, either, for good reason."
"Wait, Oliver's family name?" whispered Alicia.
"But isn't he pure-blood?" asked Harry.
"He told me a late third-cousin of his married a muggle," said Katie, playing with a piece of her hair. "Maybe that's why?"
"Quite," said Sirius. "And I'm not surprised; his third cousin Artemis was one of my favorite cousins, died during the first War when Bellatrix murdered him and his wife."
Katie and Harry both glanced at one another, shuddering, as Oliver entered the drawing room, his bagged lunch from the Leaky Cauldron in hand. Except he was rather tight-lipped and looking quite irritated.
"How'd the meeting go?" asked Harry.
"Well, I'm officially resigned," Oliver said. "But ye wouldn't guess who I ran into."
"Who?" asked Ginny.
"Your brother, and ye know which one," Wood spat. "He came up to me trying to start conversation. Started giving nothing but excuses. And your name got brought up, Harry."
"What'd you tell him?" Harry asked, feeling the stinging betrayal from Percy.
"That he should quit reading the Prophet, that he should've stuck with his family, and that if I were him, Harry, I'd be kissing your arse given all ye'd done, not even asking for anything in return," Oliver said. "That, and I told 'im everything I've held in for years, such as what I really think of him."
Harry nodded, feeling gratitude rush through him.
"I doubt I got through to him, considering how thick he is," Wood continued. "But at least I said what needed to be said."
"You didn't have to do that," said Ron.
"If I didn't, who would?" asked Wood as Katie walked over to him, kissing his cheek proudly. "I hoped at least, it would give him a little perspective before your hearing, Harry."
"Like you said, it probably didn't do much. But I appreciate the effort," Harry said, swallowing hard. He knew in a few days' time, his hearing would be there. At least if he got to return to school, he'd have Wood there as part of the staff.
"Well, since ye're done cleaning for the day, Harry, ye mind helping me figure out my lesson plans?" inquired Oliver.
"Why me?" asked Harry.
"Because it would either be ye or Angelina for Quidditch captain of the Gryffindor team," said Oliver. "I'm confident in that. I gave McGonagall the recommendation for both of ye. It's just a matter of who she decides."
"Really?" Harry asked, feeling his neck go red. Sure, he knew Wood thought highly of both him and Angelina, but he didn't expect Wood would put word in for him to be made Quidditch captain. Did Wood really have that much faith in him?
"Don't be thick, mate, everyone knows you and Angie were Oliver's favorites when he was on the team," said Fred, rolling his eyes.
"But who'd want to be captained by me? According to the Prophet I'm a nutter!" Harry said.
"Takes one to know one," teased George as they all exited the drawing room.
"Yeah, last I checked, good ol' Ollie here said, 'Get to the Snitch or die trying,'" Fred added.
"And he tried committing suicide in the locker room showers after we lost to Hufflepuff – Hufflepuff!" George put in, this time it being Oliver's turn to blush.
"Thanks, George," Harry said, rolling his eyes as he followed Wood upstairs to the bedrooms.
A few days passed, and Harry's trial day arrived. Everyone had assured him that morning that Madam Amelia Bones was very fair, and that she would give Harry a fair shot in his trial. But that did very little to calm his nerves that day.
The whole day, Wood, Katie, Angelina, and Alicia felt sick to their stomachs on Harry's behalf. They could do very little except sit at the kitchen table in Mrs. Weasley's presence, waiting for the results.
As Oliver downed his fifth cup of tea that morning, he noticed Sirius had a solemn look upon his face. He was aware Sirius hated living in this house, and Wood couldn't blame him in the slightest. If he'd ever come from a family like the Blacks, he wouldn't want to be back in the place that would remind him of that.
"Sirius," he said as he kept Katie's hand tightly in his. "I know what ye're thinking."
Katie nodded. "There's a part of you hoping Harry will lose the hearing, so you don't have to spend all these days here on your own?" she asked.
Sirius just nodded silently.
"While there's a part of me that cannot blame you for that," Katie said, "think about Harry. Hogwarts was his only real home for years. If he were to be told he can't ever come back I don't know what that'd do to him."
Sirius sighed heavily. "Yes, I know that. But the selfish part of me would rather he live with me year-round."
"I get it," said Oliver empathetically as he looked over his lesson plans for the new school year. However, before he could add more to the conversation, they all heard the front door opening, and Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Angelina, Alicia, Fred, and George all bounding down the stairs, not even seeming to care whether they woke Mrs. Black's portrait or not. Oliver and Katie both bolted from their seats and rushed to greet Harry, who had a mixed look on his face.
"Well?" Katie asked anxiously.
"Did you get off?" asked Angelina in a demanding voice.
Harry just nodded, which led to Alicia, Angelina, and Katie shrieking with delight, Angelina being the first to hug Harry tightly, Ron and Hermione both cheering loudly, and Fred, George and Ginny chanting, "He got off! He got off!"
"Everyone, quiet down! Now!" Mrs. Weasley demanded as she entered the hallway from the basement kitchens just as Fred and George, grinning, led Harry down to see his godfather and tell him the news. Though Oliver sensed there was a part of Sirius that would feel slightly unhappy that he would be alone in this house, with only Lupin and Tonks and Kreacher the house elf for company most of the time and not being allowed to go outside.
A few more days passed by, and the Hogwarts letters arrived in the mail. Except when they all opened their letters, Ron and Hermione looked at one another in utter shock. Ron seemed to go white in the face while Hermione's eyes widened.
"I . . . I'm prefect," Hermione said softly.
"So . . . So am I," Ron stuttered.
"Wait, ickle Ronniekins . . . a prefect?" Fred gasped, snatching the letter to look for himself.
"Maybe Weatherbee got the right idea . . . maybe Dumbledore has gone mad!" George said, shaking his head. Luckily, Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to notice Percy's name being mentioned, because she went up to Ron, hugging and kissing him proudly.
"Oh, congratulations, Ron! Now that's everybody in the family!" she said in delight.
"What are Fred and I? Next door neighbors?" George asked, looking extremely offended at the thought while Harry just sat there, quietly.
While Harry was happy for Ron and Hermione, there was a small part of him that felt a twinge of jealousy. He'd thought for sure that Dumbledore might consider him for prefect, at least, given all he'd done over the years, saving the school. But still . . .
Harry just opened his own letter, and as he did so, he caught a glance from Angelina, who was staring at him with wide eyes and her mouth agape.
"Harry, open your letter. See what it says," she told him, beaming hard as she bounced on the heels of her feet.
Harry nodded, and began reading his letter. Only what he saw written there left him as stunned as Angelina looked. Attached to the letter was a small, scarlet pin that read "Assistant Captain." It wasn't the title of prefect, but still, it was a pretty big deal. Katie rushed around the table to take a look. As soon as she saw in the letter about Harry being made co-captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, tears of joy filled her eyes.
"Holy mother of God!" she cried out, catching Sirius and Remus's attention.
"What?" asked Oliver.
"Angelina and I . . . we were named co-captains for the Gryffindor team," Harry said, still stunned as Sirius and Remus both grinned at one another, broadly.
"What?" Fred and George asked together.
"No way!" Ginny said.
"But . . . But that's almost unheard of!" said Alicia. "You guys must be the first two to co-captain a team in over thirty years!"
"And that means you get equal status as the prefects!" Hermione said. "You get to use our bathroom and everything."
"And we get to stay up past curfew, too! It's brilliant!" grinned Angelina.
Oliver was too busy grinning like a maniac as he rushed forward towards Harry, grabbing him in a bone-crushing hug that rivaled Mrs. Weasley's and Alicia's. He began ruffling up Harry's hair, and whispered, affectionately, "That's my boy!"
Harry could feel himself flushing crimson. He still couldn't believe it. His dad had been Gryffindor Quidditch captain, from what he knew. This meant he really was following in James Potter's footsteps, even if he had to share the title with someone else. But Wood's glowing pride was something that made it that much more worthwhile. Throughout his first three years at Hogwarts, Harry had always wanted to make Wood proud of him, because not only did Wood fill the role of a surrogate older brother, but he introduced Harry to the sport in the first place. Now, he had that chance.
"Well done, Harry," Sirius said, smiling broadly as he and Remus went around the table to congratulate him. And while Mrs. Weasley went about talking how celebration was in order, Angelina began going on about planning try-outs.
"Oh, I'm going to have to request the Quidditch pitch the first week of term so we can find a new Keeper," she said, pacing back and forth. "And now that I'm captain I need to upgrade to a newer broom; maybe the new Cleansweep or Nimbus!"
"Angelina, your current Cleansweep is just fine and has served ye well throughout the years," Wood pointed out.
"But if Montague is captain –" Angelina rambled.
"How d'you figure Montague is captain?" inquired Fred.
"He kissed Flint's arse all those years and followed him about like a lost puppy," pointed out Angelina. "And I wouldn't be surprised if he did get made captain. Because you know the Slytherins; they go for size. And Montague just so happens to be in my year, and he's an idiot. I'm surprised he can find his way onto the pitch without sign posts."
Everyone who'd been on the Gryffindor team roared with laughter in agreement. And when Mrs. Weasley announced she'd be going to Diagon Alley the next day to get school supplies, Ron asked specifically for a decent broomstick, something that caught Wood's attention. Every Weasley sibling had been a member of the Gryffindor team at some point, with Bill and Percy being the two exceptions; if Ron were to join, that would be almost all of them. And as Ron walked off towards his and Harry's room, Wood followed him up the stairs.
"Hey, Ron?" he said.
"Yeah, Wood?" asked Ron.
"Ye have any thoughts on trying out for Keeper?" asked Oliver.
Ron nodded, saying, "Well, I've wanted to for a while. I just never had a decent broom, and now that I'm getting it . . ."
Wood nodded. "I get it," he said. "Are ye any good?"
"Well, Charlie, Fred and George always had me keep for them when they'd practice in the summers," Ron said.
"At least ye understand the game and ye know the position," Wood said. "Ye're a step ahead of any others going for the position. I'd suggest getting some practice in before school starts."
Ron nodded in agreement.
"And I think it's fitting ye're going for it," said Wood. "If ye're as good as your brothers are, then the Gryffindor team will win the Cup in a landslide."
"Yeah, I suppose so," Ron said, a nervous edge to his voice. "Just . . . don't tell anyone from the team yet, please. I'd rather keep it quiet until tryouts happen."
Wood grinned. "Your secret's safe. And well done, on being made a prefect."
"I didn't think it'd be me. I thought it'd be Harry, honestly," Ron admitted. "He's done more than I ever did."
"Yet ye know Harry. He'll say he's had help," said Oliver around a smile.
"He's always modest," Ron said sheepishly.
Wood nodded in agreement. "I've never met a more noble Gryffindor than Harry Potter."
Later that evening, after the celebrating of Ron, Hermione, Angelina, and Harry's success was over, Wood proceeded to get ready to hit the shower. In a day or so, he would be boarding the Hogwarts Express with his old teammates to head to Hogwarts; because the decision to hire him as flying instructor had been so last-minute, it meant that there wasn't any other means for transportation. The train ride would be his final moments with Katie as her boyfriend, and it also meant he had to go from being Angelina and Harry's friend, to a Hogwarts colleague and a member of the teaching staff. It meant that he couldn't have the same relationships he'd had with his six Quidditch teammates for years.
Sighing, Wood reached over for his trunk, and digging through it, he found what he was looking for. It was the photograph that had gotten taken of the Gryffindor team when Harry had his very first game. They'd all been in the common room, still wearing their Quidditch robes; the Weasley twins had snuck in bottles of pumpkin juice, butterbeer, and fire whiskey from Hogsmeade Village, along with what had been half of Honeyduke's Sweet Shoppe. In the photo, Harry was standing in the middle between Oliver and Alicia, with Katie at Oliver's other side. Angelina was standing beside Alicia, and Fred and George were on either end. All seven of them had their arms around one another's shoulders, beaming broadly at the camera; he remembered Lee Jordan had taken it.
That had been a good memory, and a day Wood would never forget. From that day forward, they'd become more than just teammates. They'd oddly enough become a family.
Wood distinctly remembered Harry being white-faced and unable to eat a thing that morning; how terrified he'd been at the prospect of stepping onto the pitch for the first time. But in the end, Harry ended up winning them the game. Now, four years later, he was co-captaining with Angelina. For Wood, he couldn't be any prouder.
Stashing the photo away, he turned his gaze towards the door as Harry entered the room.
"You wanted to talk to me, Wood?" he asked.
Oliver nodded. "Yeah, I did," he said. He got up and moved to sit on Angelina and Alicia's bed. "Listen, I'm thrilled ye got off and that ye'll be going back to school. I'm also thrilled ye and Angelina were made co-captains. Quite frankly, I didn't expect McGonagall to make that decision."
"Neither did I," Harry said, honestly. "I mean, I saw Angelina being captain; she's got more experience than I."
"But what ye lack in experience, ye make up for with passion," said Oliver. "That's why I put in word for ye to be considered. But I told Angeline this earlier. Take some advice, Harry, from one captain to another. Trust your instincts, and go with what ye feel is right. Stand by your decisions; the rest of the team will back ye up."
Harry nodded.
"And besides, I'll be present at the Quidditch tryouts, just to get a feel for who will be on the team," said Oliver.
"It'll be a nightmare replacing you," said Harry.
"Don't think of it as trying to replace me. Everyone plays differently," said Oliver. "What matters is if the player's got talent, and he or she puts in the work – that's what's important. Besides, I would love to see Gryffindor win the Cup this year – not that I'm supposed to pick favorites as a teacher." He added in the last part hastily.
Harry laughed. "I know what you mean, Wood," he said. "It'll just be weird calling you 'Professor' or 'Mister.'"
"Outside of class, just call me Oliver." Oliver winked at him. "And I can't say it enough, but congratulations. Ye deserve it. And although I've never met your dad, I know about his reputation, both as a Chaser and as a Quidditch captain. I think if he were here right now, he'd be so proud of ye."
Harry nodded. "Thanks, Oliver."
Wood just pulled the Seeker in for a quick, yet firm embrace. "Get some sleep, Potter."
A/N:
D.J Scales –
I agree; I wish the Gryffindor team showed a lot more backbone during Harry's first year. I would especially expect that from someone like Wood, but then again, can we remember who this guy is? He's so thick he doesn't have a clue how he comes off to others. I love his character, but at times, he's an idiot, point blank.
FanFictionFanGirl59 –
Well, it's here. It took me almost a whole month to do it; I'm trying to write several other stories at the moment especially on Archive of Our Own, two of which I'm facing writer's block for. So, I've been taking my time with this; I don't know how often I'll update, but it will be finished. When? I don't know. I'm just going with the flow and seeing if I continue to gain a following. But I'm glad you enjoy this as much as you do.