Disclaimer: I don't own anything. None of this is mine.

Author's noteYes another chapter!

Chapter 2: Minor threats and choices good and bad

Exhausted after getting home, reading all his letters, and making the Bogart disappear he decided to take a nap since it wasn't even past noon yet.

He went up the spiral staircase, and took a left down the hall and to the right into his bedroom. He walked over to his night stand and set his wand down. He took off his robes and shoes and crawled into bed. He fell asleep almost instantly and never had a chance to ponder about the last few weeks of his life.

Hours later he woke up in the pitch dark. He started to get up and reach for his wand, but didn't feel it on his night stand, where he was sure he had left it.

"Sit back down, Wood," a voice called out from in front of him. He reluctantly obeyed.

"Who are you?" Oliver asked. The figure moved closer to him and chuckled ever so lightly.

"Lumos," the man said. Instantly light came out of the tip of his wand. He put the light to his face revealing a hooded figure.

"Death eater," Oliver said furiously, and through clenched teeth.

"Wow Wood, you're smarter then you look. I thought you might have taken a few bludgers to many to the head," the man let out a cold laugh.

Moments passed in silence. Oliver sat there dumbstruck trying to think of something he could do, but felt paralyzed realizing he could do nothing with out his wand.

"Why are you here?" He asked the death eater.

Again the death eater chuckled. "To warn you that you shouldn't stick your head where it doesn't belong, and it does not at all belong at Hogwarts."

All though scared he would be killed, Oliver felt as though he had to speak up, after all he was in Gryffindor because of his bravery, so the sorting hat had told him.

"So you're threatening me?" He asked mustering up all his courage.

"Most certainly I am, Mr. Wood. I shall be keeping an eye on you, and as soon as Lucius Malfoy, and my fellow death eaters escape from the ministry, our plans can go through. You can either be a help, or you can be a beleaguer," the man said.

"And if I don't want to deal with this or get into it? I mean this is not my problem," Oliver said confused as to why the death eater was here at his house threatening him.

"Heh, not get into it Wood? The minute you replied to that oaf Dumbledore's letter you brought yourself into this. I shall be back soon to pay you another visit. If you are a pester more then a helpful hand I may be forced to use the Imperius Charm on you."

Oliver couldn't see behind the man's hood, but could almost tell that the death eater was smiling. A few more silent minutes past before the man threw Oliver's wand on the bed and disapperated with a large "pop" leaving Oliver alone again once more.

All though he hated to admit it, Oliver was scared. He grabbed his wand from the bottom of the bed where the man had tossed it, and wrapped the covers around his body.

It was pitch dark outside, and he had no idea what time it was.

"Accio Clock."

Instantly the clock that was on his more or less empty book shelf came flying towards him. He had always been somewhat nearsighted, but it seemed to be getting worse as he grew older.

When the clock reached him he reached out and grabbed it. He saw that it was almost four in the morning, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to get anymore sleep, especially after the events that had just unfolded right in front of him.

Oliver got up out of bed and put on some Navy blue dress robes that his aunt and uncle had bought him the past Christmas. He put his wand in his pocket and set down towards the kitchen.

He turned the lights on, and saw that the daily prophet hadn't arrived yet, not that he thought it would have. He decided not to wait around his house in case the death eater came back, and so he decided to go clean out his locker at the quiditch pitch.

With a loud "pop", he was what seemed at once to be in the locker rooms of the Puddlemere United quiditch pitch. He had been in the locker rooms almost non-stop since he'd been out of Hogwarts and received his contract.

He went over to where his locker was, and took his wand out of his pocket.

"Alohomora," he said. For a few moments nothing happened, but then there was a loud click, and his locker opened.

Out of his locker came more then 15 get well cards, which he assumed were from his coach and fellow team mates. Silently he asked himself whether or not they knew he was not aloud to play anymore. After reading all the cards he transfigured a few of them into boxes of all sizes.

Then Oliver turned back to his locker and started to place his stuff into the boxes. He put his quiditch robes into one box, and his pads and books into another. Soon he found that his locker had become quite dirty over the last three years.

The last thing to come out of his locker was his firebolt. He remembered that his parents had bought him the broom, for how proud they had been after he received his quiditch contract. He wondered if his parents were even aware of his injuries, and never again being able to play keeper professionally.

By the time he was done cleaning out and dusting his locker it was early morning so Oliver decided he would take his stuff back to his flat, and get some breakfast down at the leaky cauldron, maybe even do a little exploring through Diagon Alley, as he had heard it'd changed a lot since he'd last been there, the day before he started his seventh year at Hogwarts.

As he apperated back to his flat, he still could not help, but have a slight fear that another death eater would come back to kill him. He set his things down, and paid the owl that had brought him the daily prophet. He decided that to help calm his fears that he would buy a book on how to only let him and his close relatives and friends to apperate into his house.

Not wanting to stay at his flat any longer he decided to apperate, and found himself in the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. He wondered why he didn't apperate into the building rather then being outside the building, but figured it was something to do with Voldemort being on the rise again.

He opened the door, and walked into the place that seemed to be almost deserted besides a few old witches and wizards sitting down and having an early breakfast meal. He walked over to a bar stool that was near to the exit to go into the hall that led towards Diagon alley.

"Ah, Mr. Wood, I haven't seen yas since yas been out of 'ogwarts, I'm sure, how've yas been?" Tom, the owner of the leaky cauldron, asked him. Oliver barely understood what he had said since his words were all bunched together in a quick slur.

"Hello Tom, yes it's been awhile, and I'm doing quite fine," Oliver said.

"Yer mum and dad's doing arig' then? On holiday in America' I believe?" he asked again slurring his words together. Oliver nodded as he took a sip of the water that Tom had passed him.

"Ah, good good, now, what shall yas want to eat? The usual I presume?" he asked.

Oliver contemplated for only a few seconds before setting his drink down and nodding his head again. Tom had his food out in no time, and Oliver ate up, and took three sickles, a knut, and a galleon out of his pocket. Tom shook his head and said it was on the house so Oliver decided he'd go check out Diagon Alley.

He had heard a rumor for awhile that two people who used to be on the Gryffindor house team with him had started a shop there and wanted to see if it was true for himself. As he walked the long hall to the entrance of Diagon Alley, Oliver took out his wand and tried to remember what bricks he had to tap to get into the entrance.

He tapped the right bricks and the wall disappeared. His mouth fell in awe at how much Diagon Alley had changed in the three short years since he'd been there.