A/N: I didn't do it.JKR did. Blame her.


Walking through the stadium corridors, Oliver was thinking over what the team doctors just relayed to him. 'Possible nerve damage, should considered retiring, another injury could be paralyzing, been playing a long time,' their voices played over and over in his head. Not noticing the smiles and nods from people passing in the hall, Oliver felt as if he might be physically sick. 'How can I NOT play Quidditch?' he thought, walking through the doors of the locker room like an automaton. Finally reaching his locker, he sat down on the bench slowly and stared unseeing at the floor.

The locker door swung open as the team began to file in from their recent practice, laughing and carrying on. Ted, a chaser, noticed Oliver immediately. He walked over and sat down next to Oliver, a wide grin on his face.

"Man, are you a sight for these eyes!" Ted said.

"Hey, Ted," Oliver said, finally looking up.

Seeing the look on his face, Ted instantly realized that this was not the same Oliver he had been teammates with for many years.

"Where have you been?" he asked.

"Had some things to take care of at my parent's place," Oliver answered. He wasn't about to mention Hermione or the book.

"Ah," Ted said. He fidgeted with his pad on his knee. "So, any news? Docs give you the okay to play yet?"

Oliver looked back at the floor. "No, they haven't. Could be quite a while til that happens."

Ted was surprised. They had survived worse hits in practice than Oliver had taken. Fortunately, most of the time, they were able to continue with practice.

"Really. Does Coach know?" he asked.

"I don't know. I just now finished with the examination." Oliver stood up. "Is he still on the pitch?"

"I think so," Ted replied.

"Right. Well, if I don't see you, take care of yourself." Oliver held out his hand.

Ted grasped it and waited for Oliver to look him in the eye.

"If you need to talk, or just, I don't know," Ted said, "my door is always open."

"Thanks," Oliver said, a ghost of a smile on his face. He turned and walked quickly out of the locker room.

He walked out to the pitch dejectedly to see Coach McManus levitating the Quidditch equipment from the center towards him.

"Wood! How are you?" his booming voice ringing through the passageway.

"Hello, Coach," Oliver

'Hello, coach?' What is wrong with you boy?" McManus said with a frown.

"Just got finished with the recent medical check," Oliver said.

"Ah, I see," McManus replied. "Well, follow me. We need to discuss your return."

Oliver trailed him to his office. Once Coach McManus had deposited the box in a secure locker, they faced each other seated across a very untidy desk.

"So," Coach began, "what is the word?"

Oliver cleared his throat, which felt as if it had suddenly shrunk to the size of a pea.

"They, um, they say it will take longer to determine a possible return date," Oliver said.

His coach wasn't fooled one bit.

"Possible? Meaning that it may not happen?" his voice quiet for one of a handful of times that Oliver could remember.

Oliver nodded.

"I see," Coach said. He steepled his fingers and looked at Oliver. Opening his mouth to say something, he closed it again and furrowed his brows.

"Sir," Oliver began, "let me assure you that I will do anything and everything the medi-team tells me to, so that I can return." His voice held none of the desperation he was feeling inside. He was a captain, he needed to maintain control.

"Oliver," Coach began, sitting forward in his chair, "I am confident that any and all effort from you will be 100 percent. But, son, facts are facts. There is risking yourself in prime physical condition, and then there is this. You may want to consider-"

"But, I am not giving up, sir." Oliver's face gave away nothing. "I will return. That is also a fact."

"We will wait until the final determination; consider yourself still on medical leave, for the time being," Coach said, standing up to shake Oliver's hand.

Oliver shook the coach's hand and turned to walk away.

"Oh, and Wood?"

Oliver turned.

"There are more important things in the world than Quidditch, just remember that."


Oliver, thinking about what his coach had said, immediately apparated to Diagon Alley. He was considering canceling the appointment with Hermione that evening. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on who you asked, he ran into a very delighted and very pregnant, Ginny Potter.

"It is so good to see you again," Ginny said, giving Oliver a hug.

Oliver smiled but it was obvious he had something on his mind.

"And how was Scotland?" Ginny asked.

Oliver blinked, confused as to how she would know, when Ginny spoke again.

"Hermione, she mentioned where she was going," Ginny said, a tired sigh escaping her. "Do you mind if we grab a cup of tea? My feet are killing me."

"No, that would be nice," Oliver replied, offering Ginny his arm.

Finding a nice table at the nearby coffeehouse, Ginny and Oliver both ordered.

"So, how are Harry and Chelsea?" Oliver asks, making conversation.

"Oh, well Miss Chelsea believes she is the next star Keeper of Gryffindor. She is very passionate about it. Reminds of someone else I know," Ginny said with a grin.

Oliver blushed.

"Harry, on the other hand, is working quite a bit lately. I know he is more than capable, but it seems to me that he comes home more and more discouraged every day. But," she said with another sigh, "at least he comes home."

Oliver nodded, concentrating on his cup in front of him.

"Oliver?"

Slightly confused brown eyes meet hazel ones brimming with concern.

"Are you okay?" Ginny asked.

Oliver took a deep breath. It would be in the Daily Prophet sooner or later.

"I'm still on medical leave from the team," he began, "and there is a possibility I may not be able to return at all. Possible nerve damage."

Ginny closed her eyes. She knew what Quidditch meant to Harry and he was not even on a professional team. For this to happen to one of the most talented players in the sport had to be devastating.

"Is this for certain?" she asked lightly.

Oliver shrugged, taking a sip of tea. "The final determination will be made in a month. They figure if my responses haven't improved by then, they never will."

"Oh," Ginny murmurs. Her thoughts turned to her best friend. "Does Hermione know?"

"No, I was supposed to see her tonight, but…" Oliver trailed off.

"But?"

"Well, I'm not sure I will be great company these days and I wouldn't want to burden her with my problems, given all she has been through," Oliver stated.

"She told you?" Ginny asked with wide eyes. This was a surprising development, considering she herself had only found out recently.

Oliver nodded.

"And?" Ginny asks.

"And? It matters not to me what happened in her past. Only that she doesn't shut me out because of it," Oliver stated with a firm tone.

"But, what are you doing to her by canceling the evening?" Ginny said with care.

Oliver looked darkly at Ginny, but only saw love and concern for her friend.

'What was he doing?' he thought to himself. He wanted her to trust him, but how could she when he wasn't willing to let her see him at his lowest.

The teacup twisted on the saucer as Oliver pushed his thoughts around and around.

"She can take a lot more than you think," Ginny reminded him. "She stood with Harry and Ron at the crucial moment and did not abandon them. Do you think you would rate any less if you needed her?" she asked incredulously. "If you do, then you are not the man for my best friend."

Oliver looked closely at the young woman sitting across from him. Her hands were on her belly, smoothing her blouse over the growing child inside, but her face was set in an expression of firm resolve. His dark thoughts changed instantly from his own life to that of Ginny. To watch the three most important people in your life go up against the ultimate evil had to almost tear her in half. Yet, here she was, married to one, sister to the other, and protecting the third. A smile worked its way on his face.

"What?" Ginny asked suspiciously.

"Nothing, just that Hermione is very lucky to have you for her best friend," Oliver said, finishing his tea.

"Yeah," Ginny said with sarcasm in her tone, "well, tell her that, will you? She never seems to listen to me."

"Caught on to that too, eh?" Oliver said with a smile as he paid the check.

They both looked at one another and chuckled. Pulling out her chair, Oliver held Ginny's hand as she struggled to her feet. He kissed the back of her hand and winked.

"Thank you, my dear. You are truly a good friend to all who are fortunate to know you," Oliver said with a gallant flair.

Ginny blushed and pulled her hand away. "Oh, stop. What would Harry say?"

"He would say that any man that kisses his wife's hand probably has a death wish, if said man isn't already related to her," came a deep male voice from behind them.

Ginny turned around and grinned as Harry stood there with his arms crossed. Oliver cleared his throat.

"Uh, hello Harry," Oliver began. He fidgeted under Harry's glare.

"Okay, that's enough, Harry," Ginny said, laughing. "He means nothing by it, Oliver. Just ignore him," she said, taking one of Harry's hands in hers. His green eyes bored into hers as he fought the grin on his face.

Oliver looked at the two of them and felt his stomach drop. 'I want that with Hermione' he thought to himself. The closeness between the two was obvious to anyone that seen them together.

"So, what did I miss?" Harry asked. "Planning illicit rendezvous with each other?"

"NO!" Oliver exclaimed. He was still wary of Harry's earlier statement.

Ginny giggled. "Harry, we were discussing rare books and the sky over Scotland this time of year," she said, raising her eyebrows to let him know she would tell him later. Oliver's heartbeat rose slightly as he thought of his home and what happened there.

"Ah, I see. Well, then, I guess I should tell you that I just seen a beautiful brunette leaving a certain bookstore," Harry said with a grin towards Oliver.

The smile was reciprocated as Oliver said his goodbyes and left the coffeehouse to return home.

"You can be insufferable sometimes, you know that don't you?" Ginny said, her voice stern.

"I know," Harry said with a chuckle, "but you love me anyway." He reached over to kiss his wife.

"Beautiful brunette, hmmm"

Harry grinned, his lips inches from hers. "No one is as beautiful as you," he said, as his lips met hers.