Name: Oliver Wood.
Age: 18.
Hair: Mussed. Mussed by Bell. Bell has mussed my hair. And I quite like it.
Current Mood: Elated. Confused. Ecstatic. Baffled.
Current Location: Walking back to Hogwarts castle to find Bell.
I'd just tugged open the heavy castle doors into Howarts, intent on finding Bell to ask what she just meant when she'd just done what she'd just done, when Professor Dumbledore appeared from his stairwell near the gargoyle.
"Ah," he intoned, gathering the arms of his long robe together. "Mr Wood."
"Professor." I craned my head towards the Great Hall, looking for Bell.
"Not the person you were looking for, I take it?"
"Not exactly, Professor."
"But you happen to be the student for which I have been searching." I blinked at him in surprise. My first thought wasn't to wonder why the Professor of the school wanted to talk to me, but actually if Bell had somehow roped him into running interference between her and me.
I must have been staring at him suspiciously, because he chuckled. "If you would be so kind, I will take up but a few moments of your time." He ushered me into the circular stairwell. "I understand you haven't much left of it here at Hogwarts. Fizzing Whizbees," he added as an afterthought, and the staircase revolved upwards.
Dumbledore made his way to his desk as I surveyed his office, all golden and shiny.
He eventually cleared his throat and I snapped my eyes back to him. "I understand you declined Puddlemere's second try-outs."
"Yessir, I did."
He surveyed me steadily over his crescent spectacles. "May I ask why?"
"Priorities."
Dumbledore gave a quiet nod and an even quieter smiler. "Since you've deferred your professional Quidditch career, do you mind if I inquire if you have considered a backup profession?"
"I have, sir." And by 'I have,' I mean no absolutely not at all.
"I notice you've inspired others in your team to take their academics a little more seriously." Dumbledore gave me a long look. "Katrina Bell, for example, seems to have donned the mantle and passed all her O.W.L's, as long as she takes a make-up essay in her holidays for Professor Flitwick. An admirable victory."
"That's down to her sir, not me."
"Hmmm." Dumbledore's eyes held a cherry twinkle. "Whenever you find yourself bamboozled by a particularly perplexing problem in History of Magic exams, you have invariably written 'Dumbledore' as the answer. Flattering, although at times perhaps a little overambitious, seeing as I seem to be both the catalyst and salvation to several Goblin Wars. These recent exams, Katrina Bell seems to have adopted your strategy. Though she hasn't limited her parameters solely to the History of Magic subject."
Was there anything this man didn't know? He seemed to have read my mind because he added,
"I take an interest in the goings-on at Hogwarts, Mr Wood, but only an interest. I find it's rather boring to know all the answers. Miss Bell seems to agree. But my mantra is why I only have suspicions that the quills that Messer's Fred and George Weasley have graciously gifted to Miss Granger are in fact, storing her copious notes and answers to become Self Answering Quills, so I suspect, only suspect mind you, that the Professors will have to spend this Summer devising a spell to deflect these quills."
Was Dumbledore accusing Fred and George of using those quills to help Bell cheat? Or me, because we had the same answers?
"Sir, Bell didn't cheat. I only helped her study."
"Mr Wood, if you were the type to cheat, you would have done so in that first Quidditch Match when Mr Potter found himself incapacitated and you lost the game. You were well within your rights to schedule a rematch with Hufflepuff but you declined on interests of fairness." He steepled his fingers together, and I noticed his one of his fingers was crooked. "Your team clearly shared those interests, or they would not have agreed with you. A disheartening Match for the Gryffindors, although Philibert seemed impressed with how you handled your team and it's gracious defeat."
"Philbert? As in Philbert Deverill, the manager of Puddlemere United?"
Dumbledore spread his hands wide. "I confess my support of Puddlemere means I occasionally offer for some of players to watch the odd school game, just to reminisce and unwind after a tough season of their own, and perhaps see how the amateur talent is developing. I believe they would enjoy playing alongside you next year, Mr Wood."