I.
You remember the first time you see him fly. Charlie had always described him as "Oliver Wood. Damn good Keeper and a devil on a broomstick."
You can understand why. Even from a distance, so high above the others, his grace and skill are crystal clear. He's beautiful, so in control and confident.
Hermione sees you watching him. With a face red from embarrassment, you shrug. "I fancy being a Keeper one day."
Truthfully, you don't.
II.
You're surprised when he's at your Quidditch match. Oliver Wood is practically famous now. Why should he care about his old team?
He's waiting for you, a grin on his lips that makes him even more handsome. "Brilliant flying," he tells you, clapping a hand to your shoulder. "Couldn't think of a better replacement."
And you want to melt right then and there.
III.
He's dirty and worn out from his match, but he's beautiful, and he's yours.
"You were amazing out there."
"You could have done better," he says, kissing you gently.
"I'm an Auror, not a Keeper," you protest.
"I think you're a keeper," he says, grinning at his own lame joke.