Oliver would never forget the sight of Harry falling from his broom. The Demetors had crowded the pitch below them, and his first instinct had been to look to Aquila, who was speeding towards the Hufflepuff goals. She seemed so intent that the Dementors didn't seem to have the slightest effect on her. She was so intent on scoring the goal. Oliver's heart which had leapt into his mouth, calmed, but only for a moment. Harry was chasing down the snithc, with Diggory close on his heels. But then he had fallen, and Oliver's heart was in his mouth again.
"POTTER!" he yelled. He was so high up. He was terrified of the sickening crunch that would follow his fall. The smack of his small body off the ground. Dumbledore stood, and all was put to rights. Harry's fall slowed, and a glowing animal flew around the pitch chasing the Dementors off. Oliver was making for the ground, not caring about the match for five seconds. He met Diggory on the ground. The golden snitch wriggled in the boy's hand, and he was speaking words at him. Oliver recognised distantly that his team had lost their first match. He was certain he would be heartbroken about it later.
"Wood! It wasn't a fair win. We have to have a rematch." Oliver looked briefly at the other captain.
"What? No. You won." He was trying to make his way to his fallen teammate, but it seemed like the pitch was suddenly more crowded than it ought to have been.
"The Dementors shouldn't have been here. They don't make for fair conditions, Wood. I concede. I want a rematch."
"Look, Diggory, that's all well and good, but my Seeker is lying over there, and I don't know if he's dead or alive, so stick your rematch up your arse, for all I care." Oliver was never as rude as that, but he was agitated. Harry's wellbeing was a little bit more important right now.
"Oliver! Is he okay?!" It was Angelina, landing with a heavy thud next to him. Fred, George and Katie weren't far behind her. Every one of them looked like death warmed up in their fright. Aquila landed next, ever graceful. Her brow was furrowed and she looked sick. Her breathing was ragged, but she walked resolutely toward the crowd that was around Harry, pulling the goggles from her face. Oliver dug around the inside pockets of his robes, and quickly passed a small bar of milk chocolate. He had taken to keeping some on him at all times. Her fingers brushed his as she took the bar, and her touch lingered longer than it should have. He didn't need to look at her to know she was as nervous as him to approach the body of the small boy. The Boy Who Lived. Nobody had seen exactly what had happened up there in those clouds, especially not through this torrential rain. Professor McGonagall stood a ways back from the small group around Harry.
"That's close enough Mr. Wood." she said, gravely.
"Is… Is he okay?" Oliver croaked out, his throat tight and stiff. McGonogall closed her eyes.
"He will recover, yes." Oliver nearly passed out from relief. The rest of the team huffed out releif, sat down on the waterlogged pitch, and while he could not say for certain with the rain, some started to cry. "The match is over, for obvious reasons. We will take Mr. Potter up to the Hospital Wing. Your team should dry off and return to the school." Oliver nodded, feeling numb from the cold and from what had just happened. He felt as though he would never be happy again.
He walked his team back to the changing rooms, and once inside, Aquila collapsed.
"Not another one…" Angelina whimpered. Oliver was the first to her side. Aquila stared blankly up at him.
"Merlin's arse!" he swore, angrily. "Get yourself changed and back up to the castle." Oliver barked, as he scooped Aquila up into his arms. The team said nothing as they stared at him with big eyes. He strode quickly through the rain. Aquila had her arms wrapped around his neck, but her eyes were as distant as he had ever seen them. He cradled her against his chest, as he hurried through the castle, making his way to the Hospital Wing as quickly as he could.
"It'll be okay, Aquila, I promise." He glanced down at her. Her eyes looked dead, but she blinked all the same. He walked faster.
"Olly." she whispered. She sounded terrified. "You won't let him get me, will you?" He looked down at her alarmed. He was sure there was only one person she could mean.
"I won't let him near you." he said, speaking of her brother. She gave the tiniest of nods.
"Good. I trust you." Then she closed her eyes.
Aquila felt a little strange. Drained. Like all the music had gone from the world. She felt like something heavy weighted her eyelids down. No. She didn't want to open them. She wanted to lie here in the blackness forever. But it wasn't black was it? It was red, all around. And she heard hushed voices.
"I promised I wouldn't leave!" a man's voice, whispered.
" , you've been here for an entire day, without rest. You're still in your Quidditch gear! Get out of here and get a shower! She's stable." a woman answered. Wood. Why was that important to her. She suddenly remembered a face. Dark green eyes, a long, serious nose, the thick lips, the darker skin, the wave of his hair, the cologne he wore, that serious look on his face. A face that seemed to be in a frown all the time, until he looked at her. Then he would smile, and she would his straight teeth, his brow would un-crease itself. He was the most handsome boy in the school. Tall, and well built, she remembered the feel of his arms around her, the feel of him in her arms. His calloused hands in hers, the way they rubbed the back of her neck when she was stressed, every touch gentle and caring. The feel of his lips on hers was the last thing that came to her, and when it did she opened her eyes.
"Oliver…" she said in a gasp. She sat up, aching slightly. She felt a hand on hers immediately.
"Mr. Wood! Honestly! Give the girl some room!" She blinked and looked down at Oliver's face. He was hunkered by her bedside, clutching her hand. He was the picture of worry.
"I wouldn't leave you…" he said, very quietly. She smiled at him, feeling one of her lips crack. He frowned, and looked even more worried.
"I'm okay Olly. Thank you." Madam Pomfrey looked irate behind him. "You should go before she blows a gasket… I'll be here when you get back, I promise." In the distance, she could just make out Harry Potter sitting up in his bed, trying his best not to look at the pair. He was a sweet boy. Oliver looked to be thinking for a second, before he stood, then leaned down to kiss her forehead.
"I'll be back soon." He left her bedside, reluctantly. Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips, but made no comment on the boy.
"You need to learn a patronus, young Eagle." Madam Pomfrey said to her, in quiet French.
"I know, cousine. I know." With the blood of the fairy running in her veins, Dementors could well mean death for her. Fairies lost the will to live when they were around. Aquila had some benefits from the blood. Better eyesight, her good looks, great hearing, an ability to speak to fairies unharmed (as she'd learned). But this was, by far, the worst of the drawbacks. Madam Pomfrey, a distant cousin of hers, set about plumping up her pillows and summoning a hot chocolate for her.
"The pair of you need to learn." she said, glancing back at Harry.