Oliver shuffled through the heavy mud on the Quidditch pitch, following his team to the locker room after another grueling fall match. Playing in the minor leagues meant playing whenever people would show up to buy tickets. He was starting to wonder if their fans loved the game almost as much as he did.
"Wood! A word!"
Through the cacophony of sound behind the press barrier, Oliver could make out a dozen voices seeking his attention or one of his teammate's, hoping to get an interview in before the end of the scrimmage against a major league team. When one called out to his captain, Karla Vance, she ignored them in favor of the seclusion of the locker room. Oliver followed suit. A young witch scrambled to each player to assess any injuries that needed immediate attention and dried the robes of each player she passed so they wouldn't catch cold sitting in the room for the halftime review.
"The Bats are playing for keeps today," Karla said at the front of the room. "So instead of Drill 4 we're going with Drill 7 for the second half…"
The time spent with his aching legs resting on a locker room bench passed too quickly. Oliver stood with his team both feral to get back on the field and apprehensive at what this game could mean for all of their careers. Walking back through the gateway was more peaceful since the reporters had migrated back onto the field in order to not miss any of the action. The crowd's rumble grew again the further they walked from the muffling charms, but he could still make out individual voices.
"…abysmal. If Wood keeps this up then it's disaster for us, mate."
"Shut up, Cass, you're just sore you didn't bet on his team to win."
For all his muscle soreness Oliver felt a lightness spread across his body as he realized Marcus Flint not only had shown in this wretched weather like he promised but had bet on his team to win...and he was certain he wasn't supposed to ever know that.
The second half of the game proved even more exciting than the first, the Glasgow Kelpies trouncing the Ballycastle Bats with no small amount of help from their ferocious Keeper.
prompt from: punchsomeoneforme-willyou
