The Keeper
By: specs-88
5-1-03/5-2-03
Part One
When 4-year-old Oliver Wood picked up his first Shooting Star, he knew all he ever wanted to do was play Quidditch. Soaring through the air at top speed was the most exhilarating thing he'd ever experienced. When he'd first made Keeper for the Gryffindor Team in his second year, he'd cried real tears of joy.
The captain of the team at the time, Joshua Barns, taught him everything he knew. Joshua was his mentor and very best friend. But Josh left in Oliver's third year, and the team's next year was a downhill spiral, even from the bad luck the past four years had brought. However, a year after Josh left, Harry Potter came, and the Gryffindor team had hope once again.
Those next years were hell for the Gryffindors. They lost the Quidditch Cup two straight years. But the third year, a miracle occurred. The final game was fast and loud and long. But finally, Harry made a legendary catch and won the cup. Oliver sobbed with ecstasy and relief as he passed the shining trophy to Harry.
That was his finest moment, he thought as he watched the countryside speed past his train compartment window. He was on his way to Puddlemere, to get his start on the Puddlemere Phantoms Reserve Team. He couldn't wait to get there and meet everyone and see everything. He was so excited he felt he would burst, and who could sleep on the train? He beamed and felt his stomach flip-flop as the train slowed to a stop.
He got off the sleek train and retrieved his luggage, heading to the lobby of the station to find his ride to the Pitch. He ran a hand nervously through his short brown hair as he looked around.
He felt a tap on his shoulder. Whirling around, his dark eyes met clear green ones. "Wood?" The skinny boy in front of him asked.
"That's me." Oliver smiled and held out his hand, his stomach performing more stunts than he'd ever done on his faithful broomstick.
The other boy shook his hand, but didn't smile. "I'm Carver, Michael Carver. I'll be your Captain and Seeker." He looked just nineteen. Michael's blonde hair was combed back, and his back was ramrod straight. Oliver's brows met over his nose as he saw the army badges scattered over his breast pocket.
"Pleased to meet you Michael. I'm glad to be your Keeper." Oliver's smile faltered under the cold gaze of his militant comrade.
"We will go back to the house first, so you can drop off your things, then we're heading to the Pitch for practice." He unlocked his car and climbed in, pushing piles of Quidditch gear into the back seat of his otherwise neat car. "Practice starts precisely at five-thirty A.M., but I'm not worrying about you being late, as you're staying with me." Carver smiled slightly at his cleverness.
Oliver sat still and upright, hands in his lap, afraid to touch anything for fear of getting a tongue-lashing from his new teammate. He didn't say anything; he thought it was better not to interrupt him, as his Captain was on a roll.
"I expect the utmost respect to me, the equipment, and your teammates. This isn't school anymore, Wood. This is the real thing. No more Mister Nice Quidditch."
Oliver smirked at this as they pulled into the driveway of the small house. The creamy-white stucco walls of the house were framed in black panels of sturdy wood. The front door was painted a bright red, and Wood was warmly reminded of his good old Gryffindor team. They shared the weight of his bags and entered the cozy home.
It was just as Oliver expected. It was tidy and warm, sheltering him from the slight chill of the outside. Carver led him to a small, nearly empty room in the corner of the house. "Yours." He plopped Oliver's black duffle onto the navy-sheeted bed.
He marched out to the hallway and stopped in front of a closed door. "Mine. Do not, under any circumstances enter this room-" "Without permission." Oliver finished, forgetting his former vow not to interrupt.
Michael looked upon him calmly. "Not ever."
Oliver held his gaze for a minute before-
"Get your things. Time for you to meet your teammates."
@@@
Oliver gaped at the amazing stadium spread before him. "This is it?"
Carver smiled truly for the first time. "This is it." He breathed, as though it was his first time seeing it as well. Carver led him through the bleachers to the dugout-like overhang that led to the locker rooms. "Now. The others should be along shortly so we can get started."
No sooner had he said the words than male and female voices could be heard coming from the entrance. Two boys and two girls appeared climbing down the steps of the bleachers. "Oi! Mike!" The taller boy of the two waved down, his blue-black hair shining in the afternoon sunlight.
Carver put his head in a hand and shook his head. Oliver heard him mutter something that sounded oddly like "Chasers."
The mocha-skinned boy approached him and shook his hand. "The name's Hayden Sharpe. I'm chaser. Great to have you on." Oliver grinned. He'd just found the Fred and George of the team.
The tallest girl took his hand and, like Carver, didn't smile. "I'm Jade Brewer. Chaser." Her silvery-gray eyes speared his and watched him like a cat. She looked very similar to the yellow cat he used to play with when he was a child. They had the same slim face and startling eyes. She tossed her hip-length hair over her shoulders; it's golden color catching a few rays of sunlight.
The shorter boy stood at least five inches shorter than Wood did, his reddish-brown hair glinting around his shoulders. He reached back and pulled it into a ponytail before extending his hand. "I'm Henry Lotte. I play beater." His chocolate eyes flashed at the idea of speeding over the grass, swinging his cherished bat for a Puddlemere win.
Oliver came to the last girl, the shortest one of all, grinning welcomingly, showing off her pretty teeth. "'Lo there, Oliver." She shook his hand firmly, trying to surpress her infectious beam. "I'm Brelan Moore." [A/N: "Brelan" is pronounced "Breelin"] She crossed her arms over her chest and blew her short, dark brown hair out of her almost-black eyes.
Oliver grinned back at her. "Hi Brelan. Pleasure." He turned toward Carver.
Brelan looked him up and down from behind. "Pleasure's all mine." She mumbled, smiling comfortably.
A short girl with the same Indian skin and raven hair as Hayden crashed into the stadium, her equipment bags banging off of every bleacher, echoing through the empty Pitch.
She stumbled to a halt in front of Carver, blushing furiously and panting like a dog. She pulled back her elbow-length hair and adjusted the bindi on her forehead. "Sorry, Michael." She bit her lip and smiled sheepishly.
Michael looked annoyed for a moment, but his gaze softened to amusement. "It's alright. Just don't let it happen again." She nodded at his sternness and he smiled as he turned to Oliver. "This is Aidan Sharpe. She's Hayden's younger sister. One of the best beaters we've ever had when she's not late."
Henry rolled his eyes. He leaned over and whispered to Oliver. "She's been late nearly every practice and Mike has barely given her a look. I think he fancies her." Oliver laughed lightly.
"Alright then!" Carver boomed when Aidan took her place in line. "Let's get in the air."
@@@
Oliver felt right at home in the air, even in his sweatpants and tee shirt. He weaved through the goal posts, savoring each drop of his stomach as he sped toward the ground. He steadied himself in front of the posts and watched Brelan, who was the first to get off the ground, glide gracefully, cutting a curve across the sky as she 'loop-the-looped' with no hands. Aidan seemed to take the dare and performed a dangerous one-handed handstand in midair. Soon, the entire team was in the air, setting their position.
"Now, I'm letting out the balls!" Carver bellowed from the ground. He kicked open the box and the Snitch and Bludgers rocketed out. He performed a charm on the Quaffle to toss itself to the chasers. The practice began, and it lasted long into the evening.
@@@
Oliver returned to Carver's house, energized and satisfied. The team worked as one, practically reading each other's minds. He grinned nonstop as he got out of his practice clothes to shower. The team was getting together in an hour to celebrate Oliver's arrival.
He was still beaming after he got out of the bathroom, pulling his black turtleneck over his head, making no move to straighten his hair out. A sharp rap sounded at the door. "Ready?" Carver said evenly through the heavy oak.
Oliver pulled on his left shoe and hopped out the door, trying to tie it. "Ready!"
@@@
The local hangout, The Attic, was bustling tonight. Oliver and Carver made their way through the crowd and up the old stairs to the balcony, where the entire Quidditch team had secured two tables piled with cakes, chocolate (Aidan's one weakness), and drinks. The music pulsed as the new friends talked and laughed, ate and drank.
After about an hour, two girls approached the table. "Carver." The girl with the light brown hair leveled her gaze at him.
"Weaver." Michael met her green eyes. Without leaving her stare, he motioned to Wood. "This is Jessica Weaver. She's the Keeper for the Magpies Reserve Team. And the other girl is one of their Beaters, Erica Kinney."
Oliver lifted his eyes to the slim, freckled girl with the long ashy blonde hair, even longer than Jade's. "Hi.Wood." She rolled her turquoise eyes slightly. "Nice to beat-I mean, meet you." She smiled coyly and drew her hand from his.
"Likewise." He forced a smile.
"The others will be over in a minute." Jessica smiled. "They're dying to meet you too."
Carver sat back in his seat. "So Jess, Erica.how are the Magpies faring? I heard about that horrid beating you took to Hayberry last spring." He clucked his tongue. "It's just awful."
Erica's eyes flashed and she stepped forward. Jess caught her arms and gave her a silent warning. Erica shook her off and balled her fists. "Just fine. I heard about that little accident you had with your former Keeper. Best not ruin this one." She eyed Wood beadily. "He's kind of cute."
A large shadow rose behind Jess and Erica. "What's all this?"
Jess smiled at the figure. "'Lo Cap. We're just meeting the new Keeper for the Phantoms."
"You know, catching up with old friends," Erica sneered.
The figure's head lifted slightly. "Let me see him." There was a smirk in his voice. And the shadow finally joined the light.
Oliver's eyes nearly fell out of his face and his jaw to the floor.
"Josh?"
@@@
Well, there you go! It's the first installment of one (hopefully) epic fic. So please, read and review! It'll just take you a few seconds! *Big anime eyes* Please? Keep your heads up for the next part!
Part One
When 4-year-old Oliver Wood picked up his first Shooting Star, he knew all he ever wanted to do was play Quidditch. Soaring through the air at top speed was the most exhilarating thing he'd ever experienced. When he'd first made Keeper for the Gryffindor Team in his second year, he'd cried real tears of joy.
The captain of the team at the time, Joshua Barns, taught him everything he knew. Joshua was his mentor and very best friend. But Josh left in Oliver's third year, and the team's next year was a downhill spiral, even from the bad luck the past four years had brought. However, a year after Josh left, Harry Potter came, and the Gryffindor team had hope once again.
Those next years were hell for the Gryffindors. They lost the Quidditch Cup two straight years. But the third year, a miracle occurred. The final game was fast and loud and long. But finally, Harry made a legendary catch and won the cup. Oliver sobbed with ecstasy and relief as he passed the shining trophy to Harry.
That was his finest moment, he thought as he watched the countryside speed past his train compartment window. He was on his way to Puddlemere, to get his start on the Puddlemere Phantoms Reserve Team. He couldn't wait to get there and meet everyone and see everything. He was so excited he felt he would burst, and who could sleep on the train? He beamed and felt his stomach flip-flop as the train slowed to a stop.
He got off the sleek train and retrieved his luggage, heading to the lobby of the station to find his ride to the Pitch. He ran a hand nervously through his short brown hair as he looked around.
He felt a tap on his shoulder. Whirling around, his dark eyes met clear green ones. "Wood?" The skinny boy in front of him asked.
"That's me." Oliver smiled and held out his hand, his stomach performing more stunts than he'd ever done on his faithful broomstick.
The other boy shook his hand, but didn't smile. "I'm Carver, Michael Carver. I'll be your Captain and Seeker." He looked just nineteen. Michael's blonde hair was combed back, and his back was ramrod straight. Oliver's brows met over his nose as he saw the army badges scattered over his breast pocket.
"Pleased to meet you Michael. I'm glad to be your Keeper." Oliver's smile faltered under the cold gaze of his militant comrade.
"We will go back to the house first, so you can drop off your things, then we're heading to the Pitch for practice." He unlocked his car and climbed in, pushing piles of Quidditch gear into the back seat of his otherwise neat car. "Practice starts precisely at five-thirty A.M., but I'm not worrying about you being late, as you're staying with me." Carver smiled slightly at his cleverness.
Oliver sat still and upright, hands in his lap, afraid to touch anything for fear of getting a tongue-lashing from his new teammate. He didn't say anything; he thought it was better not to interrupt him, as his Captain was on a roll.
"I expect the utmost respect to me, the equipment, and your teammates. This isn't school anymore, Wood. This is the real thing. No more Mister Nice Quidditch."
Oliver smirked at this as they pulled into the driveway of the small house. The creamy-white stucco walls of the house were framed in black panels of sturdy wood. The front door was painted a bright red, and Wood was warmly reminded of his good old Gryffindor team. They shared the weight of his bags and entered the cozy home.
It was just as Oliver expected. It was tidy and warm, sheltering him from the slight chill of the outside. Carver led him to a small, nearly empty room in the corner of the house. "Yours." He plopped Oliver's black duffle onto the navy-sheeted bed.
He marched out to the hallway and stopped in front of a closed door. "Mine. Do not, under any circumstances enter this room-" "Without permission." Oliver finished, forgetting his former vow not to interrupt.
Michael looked upon him calmly. "Not ever."
Oliver held his gaze for a minute before-
"Get your things. Time for you to meet your teammates."
@@@
Oliver gaped at the amazing stadium spread before him. "This is it?"
Carver smiled truly for the first time. "This is it." He breathed, as though it was his first time seeing it as well. Carver led him through the bleachers to the dugout-like overhang that led to the locker rooms. "Now. The others should be along shortly so we can get started."
No sooner had he said the words than male and female voices could be heard coming from the entrance. Two boys and two girls appeared climbing down the steps of the bleachers. "Oi! Mike!" The taller boy of the two waved down, his blue-black hair shining in the afternoon sunlight.
Carver put his head in a hand and shook his head. Oliver heard him mutter something that sounded oddly like "Chasers."
The mocha-skinned boy approached him and shook his hand. "The name's Hayden Sharpe. I'm chaser. Great to have you on." Oliver grinned. He'd just found the Fred and George of the team.
The tallest girl took his hand and, like Carver, didn't smile. "I'm Jade Brewer. Chaser." Her silvery-gray eyes speared his and watched him like a cat. She looked very similar to the yellow cat he used to play with when he was a child. They had the same slim face and startling eyes. She tossed her hip-length hair over her shoulders; it's golden color catching a few rays of sunlight.
The shorter boy stood at least five inches shorter than Wood did, his reddish-brown hair glinting around his shoulders. He reached back and pulled it into a ponytail before extending his hand. "I'm Henry Lotte. I play beater." His chocolate eyes flashed at the idea of speeding over the grass, swinging his cherished bat for a Puddlemere win.
Oliver came to the last girl, the shortest one of all, grinning welcomingly, showing off her pretty teeth. "'Lo there, Oliver." She shook his hand firmly, trying to surpress her infectious beam. "I'm Brelan Moore." [A/N: "Brelan" is pronounced "Breelin"] She crossed her arms over her chest and blew her short, dark brown hair out of her almost-black eyes.
Oliver grinned back at her. "Hi Brelan. Pleasure." He turned toward Carver.
Brelan looked him up and down from behind. "Pleasure's all mine." She mumbled, smiling comfortably.
A short girl with the same Indian skin and raven hair as Hayden crashed into the stadium, her equipment bags banging off of every bleacher, echoing through the empty Pitch.
She stumbled to a halt in front of Carver, blushing furiously and panting like a dog. She pulled back her elbow-length hair and adjusted the bindi on her forehead. "Sorry, Michael." She bit her lip and smiled sheepishly.
Michael looked annoyed for a moment, but his gaze softened to amusement. "It's alright. Just don't let it happen again." She nodded at his sternness and he smiled as he turned to Oliver. "This is Aidan Sharpe. She's Hayden's younger sister. One of the best beaters we've ever had when she's not late."
Henry rolled his eyes. He leaned over and whispered to Oliver. "She's been late nearly every practice and Mike has barely given her a look. I think he fancies her." Oliver laughed lightly.
"Alright then!" Carver boomed when Aidan took her place in line. "Let's get in the air."
@@@
Oliver felt right at home in the air, even in his sweatpants and tee shirt. He weaved through the goal posts, savoring each drop of his stomach as he sped toward the ground. He steadied himself in front of the posts and watched Brelan, who was the first to get off the ground, glide gracefully, cutting a curve across the sky as she 'loop-the-looped' with no hands. Aidan seemed to take the dare and performed a dangerous one-handed handstand in midair. Soon, the entire team was in the air, setting their position.
"Now, I'm letting out the balls!" Carver bellowed from the ground. He kicked open the box and the Snitch and Bludgers rocketed out. He performed a charm on the Quaffle to toss itself to the chasers. The practice began, and it lasted long into the evening.
@@@
Oliver returned to Carver's house, energized and satisfied. The team worked as one, practically reading each other's minds. He grinned nonstop as he got out of his practice clothes to shower. The team was getting together in an hour to celebrate Oliver's arrival.
He was still beaming after he got out of the bathroom, pulling his black turtleneck over his head, making no move to straighten his hair out. A sharp rap sounded at the door. "Ready?" Carver said evenly through the heavy oak.
Oliver pulled on his left shoe and hopped out the door, trying to tie it. "Ready!"
@@@
The local hangout, The Attic, was bustling tonight. Oliver and Carver made their way through the crowd and up the old stairs to the balcony, where the entire Quidditch team had secured two tables piled with cakes, chocolate (Aidan's one weakness), and drinks. The music pulsed as the new friends talked and laughed, ate and drank.
After about an hour, two girls approached the table. "Carver." The girl with the light brown hair leveled her gaze at him.
"Weaver." Michael met her green eyes. Without leaving her stare, he motioned to Wood. "This is Jessica Weaver. She's the Keeper for the Magpies Reserve Team. And the other girl is one of their Beaters, Erica Kinney."
Oliver lifted his eyes to the slim, freckled girl with the long ashy blonde hair, even longer than Jade's. "Hi.Wood." She rolled her turquoise eyes slightly. "Nice to beat-I mean, meet you." She smiled coyly and drew her hand from his.
"Likewise." He forced a smile.
"The others will be over in a minute." Jessica smiled. "They're dying to meet you too."
Carver sat back in his seat. "So Jess, Erica.how are the Magpies faring? I heard about that horrid beating you took to Hayberry last spring." He clucked his tongue. "It's just awful."
Erica's eyes flashed and she stepped forward. Jess caught her arms and gave her a silent warning. Erica shook her off and balled her fists. "Just fine. I heard about that little accident you had with your former Keeper. Best not ruin this one." She eyed Wood beadily. "He's kind of cute."
A large shadow rose behind Jess and Erica. "What's all this?"
Jess smiled at the figure. "'Lo Cap. We're just meeting the new Keeper for the Phantoms."
"You know, catching up with old friends," Erica sneered.
The figure's head lifted slightly. "Let me see him." There was a smirk in his voice. And the shadow finally joined the light.
Oliver's eyes nearly fell out of his face and his jaw to the floor.
"Josh?"
@@@
Well, there you go! It's the first installment of one (hopefully) epic fic. So please, read and review! It'll just take you a few seconds! *Big anime eyes* Please? Keep your heads up for the next part!