Prompts: No using a '?' (restriction), Atmosphere (word), Cherry (colour)

Scenario: Oliver Wood and Parvati Patil meet again for the first time at a Quidditch match years after they leave school.

Word Count: 1209

"Thank you again for getting here so quickly," the Puddlemere Coach greeted, huffing as he jogged over to her. "Susie is normally so reliable, but lately…"

"Lately she's been having a lot of home problems with her brother's being thrown into Azkaban and her Dad's falling ill. I'm sure you can give her some leeway during this difficult time," Parvati muttered, unimpressed.

"Of course we can," he agreed eagerly. She internally rolled her eyes. People with money and power weren't always smart and weren't always eager to have control of the universe. Sometimes, they were just oversized lap dogs, eager to impress and make friends.

"I suppose I'll be expecting a lot of injuries today then," she said dryly, looking at the players warm up for their match later that day. "Magpies aren't always known for being the cleanest of players."

"No, you're right there," he chuckled. "We're expecting the regular chaser to be knocked off the broom because of anything ranging from bludgers or clashes, but we're also expecting our keeper to hit the ground, despite the hope we have for him not falling off."

"Huh, your keeper must be a sensational player if he can't stay on for the duration of the match."

"He is sensational. Oliver Wood is a magnificent player, but his rivalry with the Magpies' chaser, Marcus Flint, goes all the way back to Hogwarts. They'll be clashing heads on the pitch again tonight."

Parvati's eyes widened; she hadn't seen Oliver Wood since Hogwarts. There had been their occasional greetings when she was in school, but being a first and second year, there hadn't been too much contact between them, even though they were in the same house. They'd caught up during the Battle of Hogwarts, but she'd been too concerned with Padma and Lavender to check up on him afterwards before he'd left the grounds.

"Well, I'll get myself prepared in the Healing Ward that you have on site, and then I'll meet you in the stands at the beginning of the match."

"I'll save you a seat," he promised, waving her away.

The atmosphere in the stands reminded her of every Quidditch game that she'd gone to at Hogwarts. Her cherry-coloured seat set her apart as a Healer and was surprisingly comfortable, considering that the stands were typically made for convenience and not comfort.

Upon the referee's approval for the game to begin, Parvati knew that she was going to be kept busy.

Within the first ten minutes, she'd had to heal a bludger to the leg. She'd tried to persuade the player, a chaser who was brand new to the team and was clearly in over his head in this match, to sit out and let the leg heal (which was what it needed), but she was overruled by pure stupidity and determination, and he returned to the game.

He was carted off to St Mungo's only twenty minutes later when his broom was shattered by a crashed into the side of the stands before falling towards the ground, luckily being saved by a quick 'arresto momentum'.

"Bloody hell," she muttered after she dealt with yet another broken nose and sprained wrist. "Even Draco Malfoy was able to catch the snitch quicker in Hogwarts."

The coach laughed. "It'll be over soon, trust me," he told her.

And it was, for their Keeper.

"Okay, lay him here and don't move him," she snapped, making space for him to be put on the bed. "Now, two of you stay in case I need help holding him still, but stick to the walls and stay out of my way. Everyone else, scram!" she ordered, hustling over to Oliver Wood's side.

"Hello," she greeted warmly, smiling at the disorientated wizard. "I'm going to ask you a few questions. Is that oka-"

"Ow," he interrupted. He tried to lift a hand to his head, but Parvati held his arm down. "I'm in pain."

"I know you are. The bludger hit your chest and forced you into the pole. You could've seriously damaged yourself, so I'm going to run a series of tests, but I can't do them and get accurate results if you've ingested anything for the pain."

"I can wait," he vowed. "Let's get started."

"I'm the Healer," she growled. "I'll say when we start. Let's begin." He smirked at her, and she stifled the urge to roll her eyes in response, knowing that this wasn't the time or place. "I have the slight concern over paralysis, especially with the force that you struck the pole. What I'm going to do is ask that you keep your head straight and your eyes pinned on the ceiling whilst I feel your legs at certain points. You'll tell me if you can feel anything or not. I'm going to start-"

"I can't feel you," he interjected. "Oh Merlin, I'm never going to fly a broom again!"

"Maybe we should wait until I begin," she chuckled. "Here," she said, resting her hand on his foot. He wiggled it in response and nodded his head. Her hand travelled up his leg, feeling more for broken bones now than testing for paralysis. "Right, we're all good. On a scale of one to ten-"

"Ten," he hissed as he shifted on the bed. "The pain is at ten. I'd really like a pain potion and my shoes now, so I can go back and play."

"Oliver Wood, you are not going back out onto that pitch tonight," she snapped. "You're going to lie and listen to me and ingest every goddamn potion that I shove down your throat and accept every spell that I cast." He blinked owlishly. "If I need to repeat myself then I will be able to, don't you fret."

"No! No, I heard you the first time." He smiled as her body slackened with relief and she started offering him potions. "Parvati, I wish that I'd sought you out after the war," he confessed, eyes glazed and voice slurred, indicating he wasn't wholly present.

"I don't mind," she told him.

"I do," he said. "I looked for you, at Hogwarts, but I couldn't find you. You weren't amongst the dead so I figured you were alive and had already left. I checked the hospital but you weren't there and then I couldn't get ahold of you. My owls came back returned. I thought you didn't want to see me."

Parvati stopped wrapping the bandage around a deep cut on his arm and stared at him, eyes wide. She remembered receiving dozens of owls after Padma's death, but she hadn't bothered to read any, not when they were all going to be filled with apologetic notes that lacked the comfort she wanted and needed. She wished she'd read them anyway.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"Don't worry," he reassured. "I handled it. I coped. I still wish you'd accepted my request to go for lunch though."

She chuckled at him and finished tying his bandage.

"I didn't expect our reunion to be at a Quidditch match, and I didn't expect you to be drugged up on my hospital bed, but pickers can't be choosers. Let's go to lunch tomorrow."

"Okay," he agreed, blinking heavily before snoring softly.