#oliver wood x ravenclaw!reader

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Around the Corner

An Oliver Wood x Ravenclaw!Reader retelling of You’ve Got Mail (and In the Good Old Summertime and The Shop Around the Corner)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

[pufflyhallows]

The Tryouts

Pairing: Oliver Wood x reader

Request: @cokecola4211 Harry Potter imagine Oliver flirts with Harry sister at the Gryffindor warm up tryouts. / Harry Potter imagine the reader is Harry sister and Oliver tries asking the reader out to.

a/n: sorry for taking so long!

Warnings: none.

Word count: 1,6k

You were excited.

It was the quidditch tryouts and the Gryffindor team was looking for a new chaser to replace Katie Bell. Your younger brother was already on the team and that made you even more excited. It would be fun to play alongside him, representing your house and also your family. You liked to think your dad would be proud of both of his kids. So, needless to say, this was important to you.

You woke up extra early to have breakfast and meet with Harry, who was already in the Great Hall with the rest of the team and a few other students who were maybe just early birds. Or maybe they were there for the tryouts too. You hoped it was the former.

“Nervous?” he asked as you sat down beside him.

“Good morning to you too,” you said. “And no, I am not.”

“So your sister will be trying?” Fred Weasley asked from across the table. “I reckon it will be a tight dispute.”

“Why? Is there no room for another set of siblings?” you inquired back.

“I’m just saying there will be a lot of people trying this year.”

“Again, why?”

“Well, we always have more than a few contestants,” George Weasley explained. “But this is Oliver’s last season. He’s been encouraging nearly everyone to try their chance. He wants to win the cup.”

You looked over at Oliver Wood, the team’s captain, who was sitting a few seats away from you, drinking from his glass of juice, seemingly clueless to the conversation.

“Oh,” you said, “Then he should let me in. I’ve been training all summer.”

“Some people have been training all their lives,” Angelina Johnson fired back.

“I didn’t have that opportunity,” you answered, leaving her uncomfortable. Harry smirked.

“Sorry”, she said.

“Well, I’m rooting for ya,” Fred said as he and George stood up, “It’d be cool to have another Potter on the team.”

“Thanks,” you smiled at him.

“Don’t get too excited,” Harry warned as the twins left, “There will be a lot of people.”

“That’s a lot of faith you have in me, brother.”

“C’mon, team,” Oliver Wood suddenly said as he stood up, “I would like to practice a bit before the other students get there.”

Harry, Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson prepared to follow him.

“Can I come?” you asked Harry, who shrugged.

“Ask Oliver.”

For God’s sake, you thought.

“Hum, Oliver?” you called and the boy, who was already leaving, turned around. He looked at you as if he didn’t expect to see you there.

“Yes?”

“Can I come? I know the tryouts are at 8 and it’s still 7, but I would like to watch you guys practice.”

“You’re up this early for the tryouts?” he asked. You looked at Harry, who shrugged again.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Hm, I like your readiness,” he said, “Let’s go.”

You smiled, thinking that maybe you had gained a few points already. You grabbed whatever you could to eat on the pitch and followed the others.

It wasn’t too hot outside, and soon you made your way to the stands. The team gathered in the center of the pitch, brooms in hand, and you could see that Oliver was talking to them, probably telling them what they were going to be doing today. You took a bite of your ham sandwich and sat back to watch as they flew away.

Harry was going to practice by himself, as usual, while Alicia and Angelina practiced shooting the Quaffle at Oliver, who was at the goalposts. Fred and George practiced with each other.

Normally, you would watch your brother, but something was drawing your attention towards Oliver Wood. He was the captain. He was the one you needed to impress. And that was his last year at Hogwarts, which meant you really needed to impress him. That finally made you nervous, something you weren’t before.

Angelina managed to grab the Quaffle from Alicia and flew towards Oliver, who had his eyes fixed upon the ball. You felt your heart start to beat faster with excitement to see him defend. Angelina threw the Quaffle at the first goalpost, and Oliver raced to his right, stretching his arm out and touching the ball with his fingertips, just enough to get it out of its way to the goal. You smiled. And suddenly Oliver had his eyes on you. He had a proud look on his face and seemed satisfied to know that you had seen that.

Then, your eyes were back on your brother, your cheeks slightly warmer. You spent the rest of the practice paying attention to him, while he chased the Snitch again and again, catching it every time. You wished your dad could see him now.

Oliver called the team back to the center of the pitch, and everyone got down from their brooms. They talked a little bit and then Harry waved at you, telling you to go there. You pointed at yourself as if to say ‘me?’ and he motioned ‘come here’ again. You stood up and got down from the stand, entering the pitch and walking towards them.

“Practice with us,” Harry said as soon as you approached them.

“Right now?” you asked, surprised.

“Yes. Right now. Go get a broom.”

“Give me a lift,” you asked and he rolled his eyes, but got on his broom anyway. You got on the back and you both flew to the locker room, where you picked a broom to use.

“But hey, why am I practicing with you guys before the others?” you asked, curious.

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugged for the third time that morning, “It was Oliver’s idea.”

“Hm,” you thought. Oliver’s idea. Maybe he wanted to see if the other Potter was just as good? Either way, you couldn’t not think that you were getting a little advantage over the others.

Once you were back on the pitch, Oliver approached you.

“I want you to work against Alicia and Angelina, okay? You’re on the opposite team. They’ll try to take the Quaffle from you and you won’t let them. Then, you’ll shoot at me. Understood?”

“Understood,” you replied, slightly nervous.

He handed you the Quaffle and everyone got on their brooms, flying high in the air. You followed. When everyone was on their positions, Oliver whistled. It had started. On your left, Alicia came flying fast, Angelina was on your right. You quickly flew down below them, making them almost collide on each other. Before they could recover, you were already flying fast towards the second goalpost, where Oliver was.

You flew as close as you could, and then threw the ball at the first goalpost, but Oliver was just as fast as you, and caught the Quaffle before it could go through.

“Damn it!” you shouted. Oliver smiled, spinning the ball in his hand.

“So close,” he said, “But not close enough,” then he winked at you.

“Let’s do it again,” you challenged, feeling flustered with that wink.

“Sure thing.”

Oliver gave Alicia the ball and told her she would be in your place now, with you and Angelina working together.

He whistled and it started. Alicia went to your left as fast as she could, and you followed, but suddenly she moved to the right, faster than you could tail her. You spun in the air trying to catch her, but she was gone. Angelina was right behind her, though, so you flew towards Oliver, already predicting Angelina’s next move. The chase was spectacular, with both girls going up and down. But much to Alicia’s dislike, Angelina was faster, and soon grabbed the ball from her hands. You were in the right position, close to the first goalpost, with Oliver flying in front of the middle one, but still closer to you. Angelina, then, threw the Quaffle over to you, and you caught it just fine, flying straight to the first goal. As soon as Oliver moved to his right, you shot the ball with your whole strength to the third goalpost, past him, who wasn’t quick enough to try and catch it. You scored a goal.

“Yes!” you shouted, quite happy with yourself.

“Well done,” Oliver said in an admiring tone, “Not bad at all. Let’s do it again!”

This time, Angelina was alone against you and Alicia. Through teamwork, Alicia almost scored a goal, but Oliver was able to catch it. He then called everyone to the center of the pitch once again.

“We’ll do the tryouts as a formality, but I think we have our new chaser right here,” Oliver announced.

You looked over at Harry, who was smiling. The rest of team cheered and congratulated you.

“Are you serious?” you asked in disbelief.

“Of course I am,” he said, “I know talent when I see it. And you definitely have it, Ms. Potter.”

You smiled at him and thanked everyone.

“We can take five to rest!” Oliver said to the team, and most of them left the pitch, except for you and him.

“What happens when we do the tryouts and you realize there’s someone better than me?” you asked sincerely.

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” he replied with the same sincerity.

“How can you be so sure? I mean, this was my first practice.”

“And you scored a goal against people who have been playing competitively for years. Look, Y/N, I see talent in you. And even more, I see potential. I can see a good future for you in this team. With more practice and training, who knows what you’ll be able to achieve? I have faith in you.”

“Wow,” you smiled, “Thank you.”

“But I can definitely tell you more about it over a cup of tea.”

“W-What?” you blushed.

“A cup of tea. Me and you. What do you think?” he asked, hopeful.

“I… Sure. Yeah, a cup of tea,” you smiled.

“It’s a date.”

[7s3ven]

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU. oliver wood

( master list )

IN WHICH… Nothing would make Oliver Wood happier than getting a new broom as his Christmas present. That, or Y/N Malfoy finally noticing him. When the two collide at Hogsmeade, Oliver is overjoyed. Perhaps this Christmas, he’ll get two gifts.

“I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know. Make my wish come true. All I want for Christmas is you.”

—

“Ah, he’s staring again.” Fred Weasley nudged his twin brother George and pointed over at Oliver. “Do you think he’ll ever actually talk to her?”

“I’ve seen them talk once.” George uttered, his mouth full and his cheeks puffed out. “It was in their second year.”

Fred lightly snorted and waved a hand in front of Oliver’s face. “Wood, you there? You’re drooling this time while staring at her.”

Oliver was snapped out of his trance by the twins’ loud laughter. He frowned. “Knock it off.” He told the pair, taking a sip from his goblet.

“Oh, come on mate, you gotta talk to L/N otherwise she won’t even know you exist.” Fred sighed and quickly added, “And quidditch talk doesn’t count.”

Oliver huffed and rolled his eyes. Talking to Y/N was an almost impossible feat, not just to him. She was Draco Malfoy’s older sister and was basically untouchable. She was Slytherin’s prized queen and the chances of Oliver even being able to talk to her with her posse around was close to zero.

“I’ll talk to her eventually.” He uttered the same excuse he had been using since fourth year. His crush had lasted way too long but he was still determined to win Y/N over.

She wasn’t like the other Slytherins with their mean glares and tendencies to outcast people who weren’t pureblood. She was… nice. Her friends, however, weren’t.

“You’ve fancied her since third year, Oli.” Fred uttered, “Probably before that as well! Just make a move already!”

Oliver’s crush hadn’t begun during first year. It had started before that when he was rushing around Diagon Alley trying to find all his school supplies.

Oliver panted as he attempted to catch his breath. All afternoon he had been rushing from shop to shop to find all the books he needed for his first year at Hogwarts.

He held a pile of novels in his arms and momentarily stopped to marvel at the window of a broom shop. His awe was short lived as someone crashed into his back, sending his supplies everywhere.

“Ah! I’m sorry! I just wanted to look at the new broom!” A H/C-haired girl hurried to pick Oliver’s things up. She shoved everything into his arms, apologizing again.

“You… like Quidditch?” Oliver asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Huh? Of course. Who doesn’t? My father took me to see a game once and it was amazing. Some day, I want to join Hogwarts’ team.”

It was as if Oliver had met his dream girl.

“You’re going to Hogwarts too?!” Oliver exclaimed, his eyes sparkling.

“Yeah! I assume you’re also going, so maybe I’ll see you around.” She outstretched her arm to shake Oliver’s hand, but a black cane pushed her back.

“Don’t socialise with the trash, Y/N.” A man with long blond hair uttered, scowling. Oliver instantly recognized the man as Lucius Malfoy.

“I’ll see you around, Quidditch boy!” Y/N shouted as her father led her away.

That day, Oliver was reminded of where he stood in the scheme of things. He was a lowly half-blood while Y/N came from one of the most esteemed families.

Ever since that day, Oliver had been a little frightened to talk to Y/N, just in case she also referred to him as trash.

Y/N never did end up joining Slytherin’s Quidditch team. Her brother did instead. Oliver guessed it has something to do with her refusal to cheat, and Slytherin was infamously known for cheating.

“Say, are you going to Hogsmeade today, Oli? Perhaps to do a little last minute Christmas shopping?” George questioned, his lips curling into a smirk that could only mean one thing. Trouble.

“If you want to play one of your stupid pranks on me, forget it.” He stood up and silently walked away.

“Ah. He’s in a bad mood because of Y/N again. Jeez.” George rolled his eyes as he stabbed his fork into a carrot.

Oliver was going to visit Hogsmeade, but only to look at Quidditch shops and browse through the technique books. A Hufflepuff girl had asked him out, but he politely refused her offer.

Oliver shoved his hands deep into his warm pockets as he trudged through the thick snow. Hogsmeade wasn’t as busy as it usually was, but that was probably because most sane people wanted to avoid the cold.

The Quidditch captain made an immediate beeline for the broom store. He smiled as he gazed at the window display before entering.

“Good morning!” He kindly greeted the owner, who was an old lady hard of hearing. He immediately walked towards a shelve of books, running his finger over the hard covered spines.

The door opened again, the rusty bell attached to it quietly chiming. “Good morning, Gen!” A feminine voice shouted, piercing the calming atmosphere. Oliver peeked through the books, curious as to who the newcomer was. He could see their winter outfit but not their face.

The girl skipped over to the books, standing on the opposite side of Oliver. She locked eyes with him, and he could see her eyes squint as he smiled, meaning it was a genuine one.

The pair occasionally glanced at each other, jumping when they accidentally made eye contact. The girl tucked a strand of H/C hair behind her hair, quietly humming under her breath. She walked around to the other side of the bookshelf, almost crashing into Oliver.

His heart leaped in his chest as he grabbed Y/N and steadied her. “Sorry.” He said, not being able to muster up any more words.

Y/N silently stared at his face before she gasped. “Oh! Quidditch boy!” She exclaimed, grinning. “I knew I recognized those eyes!” When Oliver sent her a confused look, she laughed. “I’m the girl from Diagon Alley! Before first year, remember?”

“I remember… I’m just wondering why you do.”

“I spent most of my first year looking for you! But I never got your name so it was a bit hard. Then when you joined the Quidditch team and played your first match, I recognized you. I wanted to talk to you after but you seemed to have so many fangirls. I got shy!It’s been ages, jeez. How are you?”

Y/N grinned, an action that set butterflies free in Oliver’s stomach. His cheeks flushed red as he nervously smiled back.

“I’ve… been good. How about you? You never joined the Quidditch team.”

“Well, I don’t exactly like Flint and Draco is already on the team. They don’t need two Malfoy’s.” Y/N sheepishly smiled and laughed.

“I saw you play as a chaser during flying class. You were great. You should join the team some time.” That compliment coming from Oliver Wood, Gryffindor’s very own keeper, was a huge deal. “You’d be a wonderful addition. If only you were in Gryffindor.”

Y/N quietly laughed. “Maybe we’d actually be able to spend time together.” Her gaze flickered to the book Oliver was grasping, “Are you going to buy that? I’ve been looking for a copy of it.” She smiled, and Oliver didn’t have the strength to keep the book to himself when she was looking at him like that.

“No.” He uttered, “I was only looking at it. Here.” He handed it to Y/N.

“Are you sure?” She asked, to which Oliver nodded. “Thanks. I’ll let you borrow it. See you at school, Oliver.” She grinned again, skipping off to purchase the book.

Oliver stared at the ground, chuckling to himself as his cheeks turned rosy red.

School was finally coming to an end. Thank goodness. Oliver didn’t know how much more studying he could take before his brain gave up.

He returned to his dorm, tired and relieved to finally be returning home today. From his dorm, he heard his friends gasp.

“Ay, mate, there’s something on your bed for you.” One uttered as Oliver ended.

He tilted his head to the side and glanced at his mattress. A badly wrapped present sat on it along with a small card and the book he had let Y/N take.

Oliver grabbed the card, curiously staring at the cursive writing.

Consider this an early Christmas gift and my overdue apology on my father’s behalf (for calling you trash). You’re fun to talk to and I hope to see you around next year.

Merry Christmas, Oliver.

- Y/N

Oliver peeled the wrapping paper, almost choking when he saw the newest edition broom. It was shined and groomed to perfection and Oliver was sure he was going to pass out from excitement.

He slowly grasped the book, opening to the first page that was tabbed by a green sticky note.

On the blank page was the writing,

Merry Christmas, Oliver Wood

And underneath was the signature of Oliver’s favourite Quidditch player.

“She’s freaking amazing.” Oliver muttered under his breath, wondering how Y/N had even managed to pull all this off.

Oliver flipped through the pages, noticing how Y/N had annotated the book on his behalf. He was only falling deeper in love.

“I’m going to find Y/N.” He announced to his friends, who cheered.

“Go get ‘er, tiger!”

Oliver hurried out of the common room, wondering where on earth Y/N would be. The castle was huge, it would take him all day to find her. Luckily, he spotted Draco Malfoy walking down the corridor.

“Malfoy.” Oliver called out.

Draco sighed, rolling his eyes. “If you’re looking for my sister, she’s at the Black Lake. Don’t tell my parents you like her otherwise my stupid ship will be ruined.” And with that, he walked off.

Oliver ignored his odd words and rushed to the Black Lake. He saw Y/N sitting alone and humming to herself as she picked at the green blades of grass.

“You didn’t have to get me a broom, you know.” Oliver said, startling Y/N. She jumped slightly.

“You scared me! It wasn’t that much anyway… and it was on sale. So you don’t need to worry.”

Oliver spluttered. Not that much money? It was more than him and his friends’ bank accounts! Even if they combined all their money, it still wouldn’t be enough.

“The book by itself would have sufficed.” Oliver uttered as he took a seat next to Y/N.

“Yeah. But I had to up my game because other girls were eyeing you up.” Y/N grinned as she stood up, dusting the dirt off her skirt, “Merry Christmas, Oli. See you next year.”

Oliver spent his days before Christmas with the Weasley twins and more of his friends. Even Harry Potter was there. But one person was missing, much to his disappointment.

On Christmas Eve, he pondered what Y/N’s words at the Black Lake had meant. “I had to up my game because other girls were eyeing you up”. Did Y/N… like him back?

Oliver sighed, rushing to turn the lamp on his desk on. He pulled out a thick piece of parchment paper and began to messily scribble down his thoughts and everything he didn’t have the courage to say to Y/N in real life.

Oliver stared at his letter, sighing. He tried not to think too much as he rolled it up and sent his owl to the Malfoy Manor.

Meanwhile, Y/N was sitting by her window, relaxing as the fresh breeze blew through her hair. She heard a quiet chirp and opened her eyes to see an unfamiliar brown owl in front of her. It cooed and tilted its head.

Y/N slowly took the letter that was attached to the owl’s leg and got comfortable before she unravelled it.

Dear Y/N,

I know this letter may be unexpected and strange, especially since it’s Christmas Eve but those words you told me at the Black Lake are still stuck in my head. It feels a little lonely without you around. I’m going to be honest here… and hopefully you won’t laugh at how I pour my heart out.

I like you, Y/N. Not just for your looks or your family. You’re gorgeous, but there’s so much more to you that other guys can’t see for some reason. You’re kind and caring and you may as well be in Hufflepuff. Your ambition is admirable and you really know how to light up a room, even if it’s a room as big as the Great Hall.

You don’t look down on other people because they aren’t pure blood or come from a family like yours. Instead, you help them. There’s so many qualities that make you stand out from the crowd and I’m not expecting a reply any time soon, but I just thought you should know all this.

Santa Claus won’t really make me happy with a toy on Christmas Day. Y/N, I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know. Please Make my wish come true. All I want for Christmas… is you <3.

- Oliver Wood

P.S, thanks for the broom and book. I’m still trying to find a gift to top that.

Y/N’s lips curved into a smile as she read Oliver’s letter. Her room door was suddenly slammed open. Y/N couldn’t react fast enough and all she could do was place the letter face down on her bed.

“Father.” She greeted him, surprised that he was even home. He was supposed to be on a business trip. “What… are you doing here?”

“Receiving love letters already, Y/N?” Her father carelessly grabbed the parchment, his gaze scanning over the beautifully crafted words. After a moment, he nodded. “What is his blood status?”

Y/N looked at the ground, thickly gulping. “… Half-blood.” She uttered after a second of hesitation.

Her father silently nodded, his stern face never changing. “I’ll allow it.”

“W-What?” Y/N stumbled over her own words. Ever since she was young, her father had preached about the importance of marrying another pure blood so this was entirely out of character for him.

“That Wood boy…” Her father thought for a moment before clicking his tongue, “He’s staying at the Weasley’s house. The elves have packed your bags already. You leave tomorrow morning.”

Y/N was speechless. Was this her father or a random intruder?

“Good night, Y/N.” And with that, he left. Y/N sat on her bed, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to process what had just happened.

A knock on the door interrupted breakfast for the Weasley family, Oliver, Harry, and Hermione.

Oliver, as charming as ever, stood up. “I’ll get it.” He offered, walking over to the door. He twisted the door knob and yanked it open, coming face to face with Y/N.

She smiled. “I hope I’m not intruding.” She uttered, peeking over Oliver’s shoulder. “I just wanted to quickly say one thing.”

Oliver could feel the prying eyes of Fred and George and he exasperatingly sighed, shutting the door behind him. “Yes?” His heart leaped in his chest as Y/N leaned forward with a grin.

“I like you too, quidditch boy.”

[rainydayathogwarts]

Hi there! I absolutely love the short write-up you did for Oliver Wood. <3

Would it be possible to request a short fic of Oliver Wood x Reader (other House) reuniting during the Battle of Hogwarts when they went back to fight, after having previously dated for a short time while they were schooling but broke up probably due to differences in priorities? Like they haven’t seen each other much since the break up and then graduating but seeing each other again made them want to give it another try. Thank you!!

So sorry I'm getting to this late, hope you like it!

Oliver Wood was a Hogwarts prodigy. Everyone knew his name alongside James Potter and Charlie Weasley's; they were the Quidditch Gods of the magical school. The names Regulus Black, Lily Evans and Y/N L/N were also quite famous, but for different reasons. The geniuses, students who soon after their time at Hogwarts became published witches and wizards for their incredible discoveries and talent.

That was one of the main reasons your relationship with Oliver Wood was so short-lived. You both had extreme talents, but they led you in opposite directions, only tugging you both further and further away from each other. Whilst you worked on magical discoveries that went beyond your education at Hogwarts, becoming known as one of the greatest witches of your time, Oliver worked relentlessly to fuel his passion for his sport which would build his career, his future. It only made the few months you spent together during your last year at Hogwarts unpleasant, the love you held for each other being over-powered by ambition, which led to the inevitable break up that shook all your friends, for they thought you would remain together forever, carrying out the legacy of being the one couple that would make it past their Hogwarts days.

Alas, that did not happen.

Instead, your magical discoveries were written and taught in the few years you had developed them and were the main source of protection for all the students who had decided not to fight the war, seeking shelter in the dungeons of the castle. Finally, what feels like days later, you're muttering the counter active spell, the hand holding your wand shaking with the trauma of the war you had just endured. When the protective force field finally breaks apart, you whisper the password to the Slytherin Common room. The portrait swings open and immediately the room falls silent. You announce that Voldemort's dead and spin around, heading into the direction you had just come from. You didn't want the reactions; The good, the bad or the dirty.

You wipe some blood from the side of your face, only to notice that the fabric of your long sleeved top doesn't soak up the liquid fast enough, and that you're bleeding quite heavily. Despite trying to stay calm, you begin to pant, tears blurring your vision, but you don't let them spill, not when you're so close to the Great Hall, where someone will have time to clean you up. Unfortunately, the way you immediately collapse onto a bench alerts more than just one person, and you suddenly have what feels like an audience crowding you. "Hey, hey, give her some space." The voice is familiar to you, but you just can't put your finger on who it is. "Y/N? Can you tell me your date of birth?"

The hand holding your face is gentle, and you can barely feel the tingle of the healing spell against the side of your face, which you take as a good sign. "You know my name." You recognise, slowly blinking. "Hey Y/N try keeping your eyes open for me, okay? Get me someone with skills here!" The demand goes to someone else, but it seems that those are the only words you're able to process. "So I take it I don't look so good?" Your words come out slurred and you feel your body slumping against something, or rather someone.

Oliver has resorted to being your own personal pillow. He didn't want you to look like one of the dead bodies, laying down still on the benches of the Great Hall, which has now become both a morgue and an infirmary. The spell he did on your wound worked, but he had one of the 7th Years going into healing fix you up and get some more blood into you to make up for what you lost. He felt your body sway against his and was immediately alert, even as you gathered balance to sit up on your own. He gave you time to process your surroundings, looking down at his feet instead. It was only when you cried "Oliver!" That he averted his gaze back to you.

"Y/N" He smiled, relieved that there was some colour in your face. You seemed confused yet surprised, putting together what had happened. "I haven't seen you in... A long time. How- are you hurt?" He laughed at your maternal instincts kicking in and shook his head at you. "No, Y/N, you got hurt. You were bleeding from your head and I just barely fixed you up." A look of realisation dawned on your face. "That was you? I... Well I feel bad now."

Oliver shook his head again, an awkward silence settling over the conversation. It was you to break the silence, stating "Well, I hear you're doing well now. I watched one of your games recently, you played nice." Oliver's eyes widened and he grinned, cocking his head to the side. "I can say the same about you, Ms. Published three books. And since when did you get into Quidditch?" It was your turn to act surprised now, retorting with "I've always liked Quidditch, I just didn't used to be into it. And you know, I wanted to see what was so special about Mr. Wood's Keeper skills here." Your eyes scanned the Hall around you, and the smile on your face slowly drops. As Oliver followed your eye-line, his did too.

"You didn't? You know, lose anyone important, did you?" You ask, now sounding a lot more empathetic. "Well I almost lost you for a second there." You glance over at Oliver and smile genuinely, matching the softness in his eyes. "Let me get you home safely. Everyone's already left." You nod at his words, using his arm as a support system for you to stand. You feel his muscles contract underneath you and look back up at him.

Despite the dirt and blood that freckles his face, he looks peaceful. He looks like someone you could find peace in.

[dreamcubed]

more than a woman 2 | oliver wood x reader

song; more than a woman [bee gees] pairing; oliver wood x fem!ravenclaw!reader genre; established relationship, long distance(ish), fluff, light angst word count; 3,1k timeline; goblet of fire —> order of the phoenix warnings; swearing, relationship insecurities, one argument (gets resolved) summary; you were forced to endure one year of hogwarts without your beloved oliver, so how would that affect your relationship?

masterlist

parts: || one | two ||

“more than a woman to me.”

———————————————

Honestly, it was a good thing that Oliver wasn't at school for the Triwizard Tournament: Merlin knows you wouldn't have heard the end of him complaining about quidditch being cancelled. Still, you missed him, and it was certainly strange not hearing quidditch even mentioned once.

In the one and a half years that you had been together, the marriage joke had persisted, primarily thanks to the relentless Weasley twins. You figured your husband being long distance would be easier to deal with due to the mass amounts of work that NEWTs required. Obviously, you expected yourself to achieve good grades: you weren't a Ravenclaw for nothing. But good grades in the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests were difficult for even the most intelligent of people.

"Poor you," Chloe mocked at dinner during the first week of seventh year, "How will you ever survive without your other half?"

"Fuck off, Smith," you chided, scooping pasta on to your plate, "At least I have another half."

She rolled her eyes at you.

"You seeing him at Christmas?"

"I doubt it," you sighed, "I still want to see my family and his schedule is pretty packed."

"That's what you get for marrying a quidditch athlete."

You didn't bother correcting anyone anymore, and honestly, you didn't want to.

***

A weekly letter via owl was nothing compared to Oliver Wood in the flesh: you felt as if you had been starved all year of the one person you wanted to see the most. If only his quidditch team allowed enough free time for him to visit Hogsmeade so you could meet up, but it didn't, so you had been deprived.

You couldn't help but grow anxious as the Hogwarts Express grew closer to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, even thought Chloe said everything she could to reassure you.

What if he had fallen out of love in your time apart?

What if he wouldn't be excited to see you?

Sure, his letters to you over the last few weeks had contained nothing but enthusiasm over your coming reunion, but you couldn't help but wonder if he was waiting to break it to you in person.

The train came to a halt.

"Y/N, Y/N," Chloe said firmly, "There is no universe in which that man could fall out of love with you. Trust me, you mean more to him than quidditch."

"But, what if-"

"Look, there he is," she cut you off, pointing out the window at the man stood on the platform amongst the parents. One of his hands held a bouquet of fresh red roses, while the other hung at his side with the fingers playing nervously with each other.

Then, his eyes locked with yours, and all your worries melted away as your lips stretched into a massive grin. You ran out of the compartment and began shoving past people to get to the exit, almost barrelling into the conductor as you jumped on to the platform.

Oliver stood watching you with his grin matching yours, already opening his arms in preparation for what was about to happen. You jumped into them, almost knocking him over with the force in which you did it. You kissed him with the same force, like you had wanted to do for the last year so very desperately.

"I've missed you so much, lass," he said through heavy breaths after your kiss ended, "I've been going insane."

"I've missed you too," you replied, tightening your hold around him even more, "Have you gotten stronger?" You felt his bicep.

He gave you another toothy smile, "Aye. Didn't have a choice, the training regime is strict."

"Good to see you back with your husband," you heard Chloe say, and turned to see her pulling along not just her trunk, but yours as well.

"Ah, about that," Oliver said, dropping you from his hold and taking your trunk from Chloe, "It's about time we made it official, don't you think?"

Shock formed on your face.

"Don't look so surprised, lass, I've already waited two and a half years."

"Godric, this is so romantic," Chloe said sarcastically, making you roll your eyes at her. "Seriously, not even a ring."

"Ah ah ah," Oliver smirked, digging around in his pocket before pulling out a black velvet box.

"Get down on one knee in public and I will slaughter you," you quickly said, "Please don't bring attention to us."

He laughed, "Relax, relax, I won't. Here," he opened the box and presented it to you, "Will you officially become my wife, lass?"

You nodded, darting forward to wrap your arms around his chest again. "Of course I will, you stupid fucking quidditch man."

He smiled wider than you knew possible.

***

"This is my- our- flat," he said, presenting the space to you, "Obviously if you don't like it, we can move, but it's where I've been for a year."

"I like it," you said, "Although I want to make it less yours and more ours."

He nodded, "Do whatever you want with it, I'm not home much."

"Will I still not get to see you that often?" you slightly pouted.

Oliver pulled you in for a kiss, "I will be home as much as I can, lass, but professional quidditch is very demanding."

You had known that this was how life with Oliver would be, but it still made you sad.

"We need to tell our parents about the engagement," you changed the subject.

"They've been treating us like we're married for years," he chuckled, "So have our friends."

"Still, we should tell them, your mother hasn't stopped going on about me being her daughter-in-law as soon as possible in all the letters she's sent me."

"You talk to my mum?"

"Yes, Ollie, I talk to your mum. Believe it or not, I want to a foster a good relationship with my future mother-in-law."

"My priorities lie with my future nan-in-law."

"You thirsting over my nan?"

"Perhaps."

You scoffed, "Can't believe I've been replaced by an old hipster."

"Don't talk about Grace like that!"

You both broke out in laughter.

"Godric, I've missed you, lass," he sighed, "Never be away from me for that long again."

"Trust me, I don't plan on it."

***

It was difficult at first, living with Oliver and his jam-packed quidditch schedule, and there were many nights where you ate alone in front of the muggle television you had insisted on installing. But, as time faded away, you got used to it - it wasn't like Oliver was neglecting you, after all. On his days off, mornings off, nights off, etc., he would spend every waking second doting over you. Plus, on his full working days, when he got back so late you were already in bed, you couldn't help but relish in how he snuggled up to you immediately and muttered, "I love you so much," even though he was under the impression you were asleep.

The wedding planning took up a lot of your shared free time, despite the fact you were only planning on a small ceremony in his parents' garden. There were still the caterers, the dress, the suit, the cake, the rings, and so much more to sort out. It was stressful, yet you enjoyed it, as it meant furthering your relationship with Oliver.

You couldn't live without him.

***

You stared at the cold plates of food on the table, the steam that had been billowing off them having long disappeared along with your excitement. A heat retaining spell would have been easy, but for some reason that felt like giving in - to what, you didn't know. Instead, you sat in the corner of the room, on the floor, fiddling with your engagement ring. You wish you could say that you weren't crying.

It's just that - Oliver had promised that he would be home for dinner by six, he had sworn. The clock in the kitchen was ticking past eight and there was still not even a word from him.

Part of you was worried: what it something had happened to him?

Part of you was angry: he couldn't even let you know that he was running late?

Part of you was fed up: you should have expected this outcome.

The door opened, but you didn't look towards the man entering.

"Hey, love, I'm really sorry I'm late."

You didn't reply.

"Love?" he looked around, as he had spoken assuming you were in the main room - which you were, but hidden from his view. Once he walked past the table to head to the bedroom, you appeared in his peripheral, and he then quickly moved towards you.

You refused to look at him.

"Lass, please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you."

"Why?"

He hummed in confusion.

"Why were you late?"

"Coach changed his mind about the evening off 'cause we have a last-minute practice match this weekend."

"He shouldn't be allowed to do that."

"I know, but-"

"Did all your teammates just accept it? Let it happen?"

"Well, no, I suppose Rodnickel did leave-"

"Why didn't you then?"

Oliver sighed, "Rodnickel had to get home to his two small kids who would've been unsupervised otherwise."

"You had to get home to me." You were aware you were being a bit unreasonable, but you were exhausted.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, "Believe me, I wish coach saw that as a good enough excuse."

You sighed, admitting defeat.

"So, what did my gorgeous fiancée make for dinner?"

"It's cold now," you mumbled.

"Nothing a little magic can't fix," he winked at you, pulling out his wand to cast a reheating spell. Once steam was billowing off the delicacies once more, Oliver breathed in deeply through his nose and exclaimed, "Smells delicious, my love."

He pulled out your chair for you.

Fuck, you couldn't stay mad at him long.

***

In your opinion, the cosy cottage that Oliver had grown up in had been the obvious choice for the wedding location: it provided a beautiful view of the Scottish countryside. Therefore, you found yourself getting ready in the guest bedroom of the house, with your grandmother delicately fixing your hair. Not too long ago, Chloe had left the room after finishing the final touches of your makeup to get dressed herself, and ever since you had been sat in silence with your grandmother.

"Getting cold feet?" she asked, breaking the ten-minute silence.

You shook your head. Not in the slightest.

"I wish I'd been that sure on my wedding day."

You met her eyes through the mirror opposite you.

"But, no, you have no reason to be nervous. Oliver is a fine young man, and he loves you a whole lot."

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "It's weird," you finally spoke, "People make out getting married as being such a big deal, but this feels like the most natural thing in the world."

"That's because too many obsess over the rosy idea of getting married and starting a family, without thinking too much about who they're doing that with."

"You think they just settle with the first person who's up for it with them?"

"Yes and no. I do think most spend some time on choice, but at the end of the day, a lot of people jump at the opportunity of marriage when they reach a certain age."

You hummed, "Do you think we're rushing?"

Grace inhaled deeply, leaving a moment of consideration before saying, "No, I don't. You two still wanted each other after living long distance for a year, I think you both know what you're ready for."

Relieved to hear that, you fully grinned, "Thanks, nan," you checked the clock, "The ceremony starts soon, you need to finish getting ready."

"Yes, yes," she dismissed you with a wave of her hand, "I'll see you out there - you look absolutely gorgeous, my love."

You beamed.

***

Rowena, how did Oliver get to be so handsome? You were physically incapable of getting the smile off your face as you raked your eyes over his features: reaching the altar just wouldn't come quick enough.

But eventually you got there.

You passed the bouquet off to Chloe - your maid of honour - before assuming the position opposite Oliver. Briefly, you glanced at the audience of family and friends, and felt nerves ripple within you. They disappeared when your eyes met with your fiancé's, however, and somehow your grin grew even wider.

He looked gorgeous dressed up in the afternoon sun, and he was thinking the exact same about you. It was all you could think about as the wedding officiant began the introductions of the ceremony; you were a nervous wreck thinking about the vows you had so carefully crafted and rehearsed.

Oliver's were to be first.

"As I'm sure you know, quidditch is one of the biggest prides and joys of my life - I don't know who or what I'd be without it. What you may not know is that I'm most grateful to quidditch not for the masses of entertainment it provides me, but for the fact it's how I started talking to you, lass. From the day you insisted on connecting me with one of my role models, I've been undeniably attached to you. I never told you back then, but I think I fell in love with you the moment you first spoke to me - I mean who can blame me? Look at you."

Your heart was racing and you knew you must have looked flustered.

"It wasn't just your appearance, though. Right from the beginning, you've always spoken with such passion, even back when you were shy around me. I know all too well about passion, of course, and I knew it meant that there would never be dull moment around you. And, look, we're three years down the line now, and that prediction is yet to be proved wrong - you're still much more than a woman to me. I can't wait to never prove it wrong during the rest of our lives together. I love you so much, lass, I'm so happy you're now my wife."

The audience applauded his heartfelt words, and as you prepared yourself to say yours, you felt him warmly squeeze your shaking hands.

"Rowena, I- I don't know how to beat that," you began, steadying your voice as you spoke, "You know I had a crush on you long before we even had our first conversation, but I don't think you know how quickly it became love after we did start talking. Merlin knows I wasn't the only one who fancied you, I was far from special in that sense, but I felt special when we played quidditch one-on-one together for the first time. I'd never played it before then, which is surprising to a lot of people, I know, considering who my grandmother is. Truth is, I was always terrified of the sport, yet when it was you asking me I had very little hesitation about throwing my nerves away."

Oliver's face had flushed a light pink.

"And only you can do that to me - make me fearless, that is. Back then it was always more in a 'I can't pass up this opportunity with my crush' kind of way, but nowadays it's more in a 'you give me strength' kind of way, as cheesy as it sounds and as much as I feel weird for saying it. I guess that's what vows are about, though. I love you more than anything, Oliver, I always have and I always will."

As your words finished, the audience began clapping once more.

"So then, do you, Oliver Wood, take Y/N L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, and promise to care for her, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

He didn't hesitate. "I do."

"And do you, Y/N L/N, take Oliver Wood to be your lawfully wedded husband, and promise to care for him, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do." The words didn't feel real: nothing in that moment did. You were struggling to grasp on to reality as you pushed the rings on to each other's fingers.

"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride."

Oliver's lips were on yours in milliseconds, the sweet feeling like honey that you were so familiar with encompassing you. His arms tightened around you as the audience stood up and began cheering, filling you with an unmistakable sense of embarrassment.

But, you know what?

It didn't matter, because you were now married to Oliver - officially.

***

The clinking sound of cutlery against glass echoed amongst the tables, bringing everyone's attention to Chloe, who was sat near your side.

"If I may have everyone's attention, please, I'd like to make a toast to the bride and groom."

Eyes stared at her expectantly.

"I've known Y/N since the very first train ride we took to Hogwarts," she began, "Meaning I've had to hear her going on about Oliver a lot longer than the rest of you."

The typical laughs came in response.

"And Godric knows did she use me to get near him all the time - I can't exactly complain though, as she obviously knew what she was doing. Now, I don't know how many of you are familiar with this, but ever since before they were dating, there's been a running joke that they were already married, so, really, today changes nothing."

Again, laughter.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding - it truly is wonderful to get to celebrate my best friend and ex-quidditch captain's happiness, even if it means being forced to watch them kiss. I love you both, and I wish you a great marriage."

The tables boomed with applause as you smiled your thanks at Chloe, truly feeling as if you couldn't get any happier than that moment. You felt Oliver's hand gripping yours from under the table, and so you turned to look at him to see that his gaze was already on you.

"Hi," you said softly.

"Hi," he replied, grinning whilst his eyes flickered to your lips.

"Uh uh, keep it in your pants til tonight, mister."

He sighed dramatically, "You're lucky I love you."

You chuckled, "I think you'll find that you're lucky I love you."

———————————————

parts: || one | two ||

masterlist

written; 28/09/2022 —> 29/10/2022 published; 29/10/2022 edited; —/—/——

taglist; @workinatdapyramid  @iluvweasleys

[letsgolandooo]

Omg thank you sooooo much for writing!! <3 Absolutely love the Puddlemere setting! And “I'm breaking up with you, or, dinner at eight?” part totally cracked me up 🤣 I wouldn’t dare change perfection! But I am however now curious as to what would happen if some guy was really checking the reader out 🤣

Let's find out, shall we? This took so long I'm sorry 😭

Oliver Wood never zoned out. He was a quidditch player, he didn't have the time to. If he did, he'd either let a quaffle through one of the three hoops, or he'd get hit by a bludger if one of the Weasley twins didn't get to it in time.

Fred Weasley sighed as he realised how little his quidditch captain had been listening to him talk about strategies to use to win their next game against Slytherin. "You know, I hate to admit it, but George is right. You do have a staring problem."

"No, I don't," Oliver said, so defensively that it sounded as if it was the most absurd and offensive thing he had ever heard, and his voice even went up an octave.

Fred said, "You don't have to sit here and pretend that it doesn't hurt you."

Oliver released a sarcastic chuckle. After being hit by bludgers from all directions, and letting in more quaffles than he could count in his first year or two as a keeper, there was nothing in the grounds of Hogwarts that could hurt him. He was put out, maybe, but not hurt. "I'm fine, Fred. Why would I be hurt?" He didn't say he was good, or great, he said he was 'fine' because that's how he hid how unstable his relationship with his girlfriend was. Fine. But wasn't that how everyone else answered the common question of 'how are you?', anyway? I'm fine, thank you, how are you?

Fred jerked his head in the direction that Oliver had been not so subtly staring at for the past ten minutes.

And there you were, in all your glory. Even wearing the Gryffindor colours - red and gold - like everyone else, you stood out.

He looked at you again and noticed the thing that had been irritating him. You were still talking to him. He hated the boy, and he hadn't even met him. And he had reasons for it - not good ones, but still reasons.

Who the hell wears a black tie with a black suit?

Who the hell even wears a suit at a party with loud, rowdy teenagers?

Who the hell goes to a Gryffindor party when they're not a Gryffindor?

You were still smiling and talking with the Ravenclaw boy. That was okay. You loved to talk, and you smiled at everyone. What wasn't okay, however, was the way the boy was not so subtly checking you out.

"Oliver, why don't you just talk to her?" For a moment, Oliver is taken aback. He had forgotten that Fred was still sitting beside him.

"Tell who, what?" Oliver feigned nonchalance, averting his eyes from you.

Fred chuckled. "How many hers do you have in your life, Ollie?" None, Oliver thought, just her.

"I know many people who go by 'she/her'. You're going to have to be more specific."

"Sure. How many 'hers' do you stare at?"

"None," he replied, a little too fast for his liking, and Fred gave him the knowing Weasley smirk that he was so used to at quidditch practice.

"I am not staring at anyone, Fred." He gave the younger boy a pointed look.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Oliver. But I'd talk to her before it's too late. These rumours have damaged your relationship enough, all you need to do is show her that that's all it is - a rumour. She needs to know that you're not cheating on her with Angelina, who is, by the way, my girlfriend, so these rumours better be fake. I will not hesitate to punch that handsome face of yours."

Before he even knew what he was doing, Oliver was out of his chair and walking towards the bar. You laughed at something the blond boy said before you noticed Oliver walking towards the both of you. Your smile grew wider but was clearly slightly forced.

"Hey," he greeted you, completely ignoring the boy standing beside you.

"Hey, Ollie. Please tell me Fred didn't talk your ear off about skiving snack boxes. Being a prefect is hard, I can't bring myself to confiscate any more. Pranks are what make them who they are," you said.

The awkward clearing of a throat brought both of your attention back to the boy standing beside you.

"Oh, I am so sorry. Ollie, this is Finley. Do you remember the posters for the transfiguration club that Professor McGonagall put on the noticeboard?"

Oliver simply nodded, not at all interested in the boy's identity.

"He's the one who leads it with her." You introduce him to Finley, while Oliver seemed as uninterested as humanly possible and instead looked as if he would rip the boy's head off if he could.

"Hi, Ollie, I've...heard a lot about you." Finley said, clearly indicating that he had heard the ongoing rumours. He reached out a hand for Oliver to shake, but it was ignored.

"Oliver." He replied with a stern look on his face.

Finley awkwardly withdrew his hand. "Sorry?"

"My name is Oliver. It's only shortened for friends." If looks could kill, Finley would have fallen dead at the beginning of the party.

"It's nice to finally meet you in person, Oliver, the famous Gryffindor quidditch captain."

"I wish I could say the same, Finley, the not-so-famous transfiguration club captain. What are you even doing here? You're a Ravenclaw." Oliver asks, annoyed.

You sigh. Here he goes, you thought. "Ollie, he's here to spread word about the club."

"You've been standing here the whole time, you must be very talented if you've managed to tell anyone here about your stupid turn-your-teacup-into-a-cat club." Oliver muttered.

"The whole spreading word about it is just an excuse, really," Finley said, ignoring Oliver. "I came here in hopes of meeting a beautiful girl." He then winked at you. "Clearly, I was successful."

You flushed at his words and your eyes darted to Oliver. His jaw was tense and his hands were clenched into fists. If the three of you were not in school, let alone standing in a room full of so many people, Oliver would have picked up the empty Butterbeer bottle from the nearby table and smashed it on Finley's head with no hesitation.

He instead just said, "Well, then, you don't have a reason to stay any longer. Leave."

Finley shrugged. "I could. But now that I am here, maybe I could enjoy the party for a bit. Gryffindors sure know how to party. Ravenclaws need some tips."

"You should stay. Our parties are the best. We have all you want. Food, drinks, g-" you tell him, but get cut off.

Oliver interrupted. "But you know what's better? The exit. You should check it out. The Fat Lady can give you a tour."

"Ollie!" You shove his shoulder. "Can I talk to you in private?" You sent Finley an apologetic smile before grabbing Oliver's hand and pulling him away from the Ravenclaw.

Oliver paused for a moment to look back at Finley again. "The exit is that way." He pointed at the passage in the wall.

You let go of him when you reach the only secluded area in the Gryffindor common room. "Oliver, what the hell is wrong with you?"

He immediately spun to face you after craning his neck to see Finley finally exiting the room through the passage. "Oh, so now it's me who has something wrong? You're the one who believes the rumour that I slept with Angelina when a) she's dating Fred, b) she's not even been at Hogwarts this year because of family issues, and c) I love you."

You looked slightly alarmed at him suddenly turning on you. "Okay, I got it wrong, I'm sorry. I believed something when I didn't have any proof. But how does that excuse your behaviour towards Finley?"

"He was flirting with you," Oliver argued.

"Ollie, you're acting like a spoilt 5-year-old now. Why are you-?" You stopped yourself as an amused grin spread on your face as you put the pieces together. "Oliver, you- you are jealous."

"No, love, no I am not. Not even a little bit. No, why would you think that? I'm not jealous. I don't get jealous." Oliver shook his head.

You grinned at your boyfriend. "I would have believed you if you hadn't denied it six times. You are jealous. You're jealous because he was talking to me the whole time and I didn't spend the night with you for once. You're jealous that he called me beautiful and said I look amazing in the simplest things."

"When did he-" Oliver cut himself off as he felt the rage creeping into his voice. He took a step back and turned away.

You stood beside him, about to say something, but then you looked into his eyes. You took his hand once again, this time gently, lovingly, and held it to your chest. "Ollie, I am- I am so sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Ollie, I am so-"

"I'm not jealous, okay?" He then turned to look you in the eyes. "I just hate it when someone else has your attention, especially someone who's flirting with you. Not because I'm jealous, but because I'm scared." Oliver swallowed, squeezing your hand.

"I'm scared because I don't want anyone else to realise just how amazing you are. I don't want to lose you, because it'd be forever, and this is our final year here and I'd never see you again. And- and I don't want that. I don't want to lose you to someone else when I love you and nothing can change that. Not you, not graduation, not Finley,"

[pinkxlicious]

Oliver Wood x Reader

Kind of short, but this is an old oneshot from my wattpad that isn't as cringey as some of my other fics/oneshots.

Word: 1048

~~~

"Can we go back inside, Oli?" you pleaded, it was almost 3am yet Oliver was still partying hard with some other Gryfindors. All of your friends had went back to their dorms to sleep, so the only person you could stay with was Oliver.

You were afraid of walking back into the school alone since you were scared of the dark and lately Hogwarts was not the safest place to be. Voldemort was alive, and yet no one seemed to be phased by that.

"Oli?? Can you even hear me?!" you said loudly as you tugged on his sweater. Oli simply shrugged you off and shot you an annoyed look.

"Fuck off..." His words were slurred from all the drinks he had. Oliver then proceeded to prance over to the twins within a blink of an eye, leaving you alone in darkness with barely any time to process everything through your head.

"Oliver!" you called as you went after him, he knew about your fear but his drunken self didn't seem to care about that. He just kept on prancing around the dimly lighted field with you running after him with paranoia and anxiety flooding your systems as he moved towards the darker areas of the field.

"Oliver please!!! Let's go inside Im scared, please..." you begged as you kept watch of your surroundings, terrified that a death eater would jump out and beat your dumbass to death.

You slowed down as you were running out of stamina. You couldn't run anymore so you stopped and tried to listen to his footsteps in the grass. But they grew softer as he ran further away from you, everyone has already left. The only people you could see were the twins heading back inside the school with their wands lit with light. But just your luck! You had forgot your wand in your dorm. So you stood there in silence trying so hard to hear to any sound.

You heard absolutely nothing as your hands started to shake in fear, you were alone in a dark field with no human being in sight, no wand, no weapon, no flashlight. You slowly got to the ground and tried to calm yourself down and figure out how to get back to Oliver.

Luckily the air was warm so you wouldn't have to worry about dying of frostbite. It had been a good five to ten minutes so Oliver was already long gone. There were no stars in the sky and the moon was hidden within thick dark clouds. You could barely see and you had no idea where the school was as you couldn't trust your self to head in the right direction.

Every soft rustle of nature gave you a mini heart attack. You curled up into a ball in the grass and wrapped yourself up in your jacket to comfort yourself. And as minutes passed you grew more and more exhausted, but yet you were terrified to fall asleep. And you were terrified to go back, scared that you would go in the wrong direction like a blind bat and navigate to the even darker forbidden forest. What if you fell into a trap?? You still remember little Harry Potter telling you about that dark figure he had seen in the forest during detention.

It was probably past 3am, you felt yourself fall asleep in the grassy fields. You tried to stop yourself, but there was no use. You weren't going anywhere because of your fear, staying in one spot was stupid but it was the best option since you were afraid to even twitch, terrified that the slightest noise would attract something horrible to come your way.

. . .

"What's she doing here?" a sweet voice said,

"I Don't know," a deep voice responded.

You suddenly felt a shake on your shoulder and your eyes were then blinded by sunlight. You groaned as you realized you were luckily still in the same spot as you were last night. Nothing has happened to you.

"Sorry to wake you, but we have quidditch practice!" You recognized the girl as Angelina Johnson.

"Angelina?" you said confused,

"Oh honey what are you doing here?? I could barely recognize you, no offense but you're a mess!" Angelina cried as she pulled out a live of grass from your hair. She helped you up and help you get rid of the dirt on your clothes.

"Oliver left me here," you said shakily as everything processed through your head. "H-He was drunk and he started running and I went after him because I- I was scared and then he got away and he never came back!" you said quickly as Angelina pulled you into a hug. She was one of your best friends and knew about your fear of the dark.

"Im sorry sweetie, Im sure he didn't mean it on purpose," Angelina said softly, "but if you want me to, I can beat him with a broomstick."

You grinned and giggled a little bit, before you noticed Oliver stumbling onto the field with bags under his eyes.

He was having a hang over.

"Was Oliver in the common room last night?" you asked curiously, wanting to know if he made it back to the school.

"Yes, he was babbling about how he wishes- oh never mind," Angelina said giving you a quick smile,

"No, tell me," you said looking at her expectingly. She cringed,

"It's nothing good though..." she trailed off

"Just tell me please,"

"...He said that he wishes that- that you could just leave him alone.. then he said some not so nice things about you," Angelina said frowning, "Im so sorry honey, I probably shouldn't have said anything." she said as she noticed your frown and the look of hurt in your eyes.

"No, it's my fault, I wanted to know," you said sighing and rubbing your eyes. "I'll see you later, I just need to get refreshed... thank Merlin it's a Saturday..." You referred to your dirty clothes and messy hair, Angelina nodded and gave you a sympathetic smile.

"Take care of yourself okay? Don't think too much of Oliver, okay? He doesn't deserve to be thought of at the moment," Angelina said before blowing you a kiss goodbye as you made your way back to the school, that was closer than it seemed from last night.

[i314flix]

LOVE CARD !

— oliver wood x fem!reader | the one where getting under the skin of the gryffindor quidditch captain, oliver wood, is your favorite hobby.

( 717 words ) pg-15; fluff, established relationship au; ft. ravenclaw!reader, quidditch captain!reader; unedited

“Unbelievable,” Oliver Wood mutters as he spots you and the whole Ravenclaw Quidditch team already flying around the pitch. The sun is only about to rise, the fog surrounding the place just starting to clear, and he’s becoming more annoyed at the fact that not only are your team stealing their time, but even managed to be here earlier than they are.

What makes it worse is that he knows that he’s the first one who reserved it for training since the match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw is fast approaching. And to further add to that, he particularly remembers reminding you that you better not take over any of the days he intends to let his team practice when he (stupidly) showed you his timetable for classes and Quidditch sessions.

“____!” He shouts your name, and upon hearing it from below, you look at him, a smirk automatically making its way on your lips.

“Let’s take a short break, everyone!” you instruct your team, flying down then and dropping down right in front of Oliver. “Good morning, Captain Wood. Fancy seeing you here.”

The formality triggers Oliver’s annoyance even more, but for the rest of the Gryffindor team who remain standing behind him, it brings them to hide their snickers and amused expressions.

After all, they—and pretty much the whole student body—are quite aware that you and Oliver have been dating for almost two years now, and this thing happening right here is just one of your schemes to playfully get on your competitive boyfriend’s nerves.

“____,” Oliver says your name again with a sigh this time, voice not daring to go a volume higher now that you’re near despite the situation, “please tell me why the bloody hell are you and your team on this pitch this morning?”

You put on your best innocent expression. “Well, we’re training, of course.”

“Yes, but I can specifically recall that I booked this pitch for the whole day. So, it’s a great wonder to me why I’m seeing you Ravenclaws here.”

“Hm, are you sure you booked it the whole day though? From the schedule that you showed me, it says there that it starts at 9AM, which is…” you glance at your wristwatch, “two hours from now. Meaning until then—”

“You have the freedom to use the pitch,” Oliver deadpans.

You grin. “Exactly, my love. You and your team can certainly wait, right? Though I’d appreciate it if you don’t hang around here while we’re playing. I might accuse you of stealing our strategy.”

“Strategy? Didn’t know you had one when we take into account the way you play.”

“Well, considering I’ve already won two games against you, maybe apparently not having a strategy might work on Gryffindor too.”

“One game was won by default.”

“And the other one?”

“Pure luck, of course.”

You laugh, and Oliver’s lips twitch, like he’s suppressing to do the same just to commit to the act he’s doing.

“Can we head to the Great Hall first for breakfast, Wood?” A Weasley twin pipes in amidst your impromptu staring contest with your boyfriend, causing Oliver to glance behind him and nod reluctantly.

“Fine. The rest of you can go get breakfast. But we meet here at exactly 9AM. Got it?”

The team says a chorus of yes and proceeds on walking back to the direction of the castle. Oliver, however, stays in his spot and raises his eyebrows at you, the mask of annoyance seen on his face a while ago seemingly gone now.

“What?” you ask, still with that teasing grin of yours.

“You promised.”

“I didn’t promise anything.”

“You told me you weren’t going to steal any of my days for Quidditch practices.”

“Technically, I’m not stealing as it is not your time yet.”

“Always such a smartass.”

“That’s what you get for dating a Ravenclaw,” you say, mounting your broom before giving him a quick kiss on the mouth and dashing back upwards where your other members are already zooming around.

Oliver shakes his head in disbelief; it’s unfair how you can get away with shenanigans that he typically would curse another team for. “I expect the pitch to be empty by 8:55, alright?” he bellows, just so you can hear him from where you’re situated.

“Aye, aye, Captain!”

[redheadspark]

Can i Ask for an Oliver Wood x female reader, with promote 1 were reader is like very smart and they are like enemies to lovers or something. Only if you want of course😊

A/N - YAS! This will be cute for Oliver! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Poke

Summary - You and Oliver were always at each other's necks....until now

Warnings - Just some cute fluff

“You can cut it with a knife,”

“You think so?”

“Come on, look at them!”

Ron looked over at the small argument that unfolded in front of them out on the lawn.  It was between you and Oliver Wood, two captains from rival teams that were bickering with each other on practice times on the pitch.  It was awkward mostly, since both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teams were awkwardly waiting on the sidelines to see who was going to win the verbal spat between their Captains.  But this was no real shocker to either team nor was it the first time this has happened.

In fact, this was the fourth time this season alone.

“You’ve always hogged the pitch twenty minutes longer than what’s on the practice schedule, Wood!  You needed the extra time because your team’s sloppy?!”

“Come off it, Jones!  You must be that bored in counting the minutes until we leave the pitch to gloss up your maneuvers.  They’re pathetic!”

“Bloody hell, this is one the worst ones,” Rom grumble as he leaned against his broom that was propped up.  His twin brothers were overseeing with small looks of amusement on their faces, arms folded in front of themselves, and looking at their mannerisms and how close you both were at poking each other’s chest with rigid fingers.  Of course, to the others that were watching this weren’t seeing what the twins were seeing.  They were seeing two Captains who hated each other fight overtime on the pitch.

Where as the twins saw two Captains who had it bad for each other.

Ever since you became Captain of the Ravenclaw team Oliver was intimidated by you since you were sharp and had a great wit about Quidditch.  Like Oliver, you grew up on the sport and knew it far more than most of the students at Hogwarts, becoming a Chaser your second year and then Captain a few years later.  Although your love for Quidditch was not as intense as Oliver’s, it was still there and you were smart in your tactics and plays to make Raveclaw a challenging team to beat.  Gryffindor was the top competitor against them, not even Slytherin could handle themselves again Ravenclaw when you were the Captain.  But Oliver saw you as a threat, your eyes ever trained on your teammates and knowing how to stay a few steps ahead of others.  

Arguments between you two became a regular ritual, though it would get far too heated at times about Flitwick and McGonagall having to have talks with you two.  Of course, you felt bad that you were making such a scene, you knew better since you were representing your House.  Then again, you were letting someone like Oliver get under your skin and fester there.  His stubbornness, his fiery temper, and his thirst to win, it always rubbed you wrong.  It didn’t make things better that you were also harboring a crush on him.  His handsomeness in his face and smile, his playing ability in Quidditch, it gave you butterflies when you didn’t really want it.

So your relationship with Oliver was…complicated?

“I bet you 5 galleons she pokes his chest,” George said to his twin as you and Oliver were still arguing back at forth.

“You’re on,” Fred replied as he shook George’s hand.  The rest of the players were watching and almost talking to each other as there was a pause in your argument, finally.  You and Oliver were nearly nose to nose, but there was a sense of ease then as you both were taking a breath.  You realized that arguing with him was not going to make things better, only worse.  You inhaled deeply, looking over at your players in their blue robes and you sighed.  The last thing you wanted to do was make this worse for them, and perhaps this was an eye-opening moment for you as you looked back at Oliver.  He saw the shift in you too, the fire in your eyes was no longer there and you were simply yourself.

“Go ahead,” You replied, Oliver’s eyes going a bit wide as you picked up your broom that was by your boots on the grassy ground, “We’ll go over plays and practice tomorrow,”

Oliver was shocked that you gave in easily, you gripped your room tightly in your fingerless gloves as you were about to walk away.  He reached over and placed a hand on your arm, not in a grip but just a simple press of his fingers along your blue robes.  You looked at the contact, seeing his fingers near your wrist and how you could almost feel the heat of his skin through your robe.

“You…you sure?” He asked, his voice low and almost uncertain as the heat in his voice was also gone. You two locked eyes again, close enough for him to count your freckles and for you to see the specs in his brown eyes as you nodded.  Now that you were close, you were feeling butterflies and almost weak in the knees. 

“It’s not a big deal, honestly.  We’ll come out to practice tomorrow, don’t worry about…Oliver,”

Oliver felt his own heart skip a beat from you saying his name, and he gulped and nodded his head slowly.  You smiled, for the first time at him and he softly smiled too.  But before he could walk over to his own team, you gently poked his chest with one finger.

“Make sure you tell your Beaters to not be sloppy with their swings.” You advised him, then turned on your heels to walk off. Your team followed you, asking you what happened and why you had the change of heart as Oliver stood there in shock and looked on at your backside.  Without him realizing it, he touched the spot on his chest where your finger touched, gasping like a fish.  

George grinned, looking over at Fred with his hand out, “You owe me 5,”

“Shut it,”

The End.

January Prompt Session

Tagged - @a-lumos-in-the-nox

[lueurjun]

@jakewife i hope you enjoy my love. let’s hope i get this one right the first time lmao ehshsjs you didn’t specify a trope so i just winged it—it turned out much longer than i anticipated

hufflepuff bf jake x slytherin reader.

right off the bat: slytherin x hufflepuff quidditch rivalry trope

elite enemies to lovers ( sorta ) trope. sorry not sorry i love it so much

jake gives sporty, friendly jock type. the one that is so popular and loved by everyone just because of how nice and cool he is without even trying

and you’re kinda giving nice but stern, oliver wood level quidditch obsession who lives, breathes and eats victory

iconic if you ask me

it’s never just a ‘friendly’ match when hufflepuff is against slytherin

it’s personal beef between you and jake

well. you

jake thinks it’s just the type of friendship you guys have

but you absolutely despise him and live to crush every single one of his dreams on that broomstick of yours

well, at least you think you do

your friends are convinced there’s something else that makes you so invested in jake

but you’re more than sure that it’s just because you dislike how cocky he is and want to dominate hufflepuff at quidditch

‘our match against hufflepuffs. we have to beat them or else life is worthless’

‘don’t we play ravenclaw first?”

‘NO ONE CARES ABOUT RAVENCLAW THIS IS ABOUT HUFFLEPUFF AND THE GOOD FOR NOTHING GOBLIN THEY CALL A CAPTAIN! HE’S A TERRIBLE PERSON’

you almost snap your broom, the mere mention of him gets you riled up

meanwhile, jake is just skipping around campus complimenting people like there’s no tomorrow

‘yo! is that a new tie? it brings out your eyes”

such a terrible person. honestly deserves a cell in azkaban

you don’t completely know why jake gets you so mad

more often than not you tell yourself that it’s just because jake burns your pride

he’s very good at quidditch, and sometimes, you feel like maybes he’s better than you

which you hate because you excel at the sport and it’s the one thing you love most in the world

and knowing he might be better burns. so you take it and turn it into sheer hatred for him

but you don’t really hate him at all

and you realise that when you watch him hit the ground during hufflepuff’s match against gryffindor

the game stops but you’re already on the field before the players realize what happened

‘jake? jake? can you hear me? Oh heavens—’

‘i’m in heaven? can you send one of your other angels down there to tell my angel, their name is y/n, that i really liked them?’

then he passes out?

and you’re just like???

did he just call you his angel?

WAIT DID HE JUST SAY HE LIKES YOU??

you don’t know when it happened but at some point, you’re pulled back by one of the teachers to let the other teachers have a look at him

and you’re just out of it so you don’t have any idea what’s going on

finally after jake’s been removed from the pitch one of your friends pull you away since it’s started to rain

‘you were on the pitch before anyone even realized jake was hurt…’

your friend is smirking, half expecting you to hit them over the head

but you don’t

‘i think i might like jake’

now that’s not what they were expecting

‘and i think he likes me too’

your entire friend group makes a massive scene of applauding and hooting, ‘it’s about time’

but you’re too focused on what happened back on the field

then you find yourself standing up and heading out of the great hall, your friends fading into the background as you rush to the hospital wing

jake is awake when you arrive and he beams at the sight of you

‘y/n! it’s good to see you, i like your hai—“

‘do you like me. yes or no.’

primary school crush core ^

jake’s taken back by your sudden question

but after a few minutes, he slowly nods his head

you weren’t actually expecting him to nod, so you stand there unsure of what to do

‘right then… i think i like you back’

nice

totally romantic

rom com confessions could never

jake grins — though he’s in a lot of pain so you can’t actually tell whether he’s grinning or grimacing

either way, a win is a win. you’re both now in like

DATING HUFFLEPUFF JAKE

after the awkward but kinda sweet confession in the hospital wing, the two of you decide that normal people start dating from then on

so that’s what happens

he leaves the hospital wing with a broken arm but he’s got you on his good one so he takes that as a win

everyone is flabbergasted when you rock up to the great hall holding his hand

all of your friends are exchanging money with jakes friends. turns out they had secret bets on how long it would take before the two of you finally got together

you’re not a pda person so hand holding or a quick cheek kiss is as far as you’re willing to go in public

‘can i at least peck your lip-’

‘put those lips near me whilst we’re in a public space and i will hex you’

hex him out of like, you like the boy too damn much to ever hurt him

you’d dive in front of a killing curse before you’d ever point one at him

but the threat still stands

in private though, you’re all over him

makeout sessions in the restricted section after jake charmed his way into getting a free pass for it

though peeves the ghost has horrible timing and tends to pop up to piss you both off

so you settle for myrtles bathroom

her crying is easy to drown out when you have jake sim’s lips all over you

him admiring you from across the room

you not so subtly biting your lip when he gets all smart in lesson and starts answering questions correctly

‘seriously? him being a smart arse is what gets you going?’

‘shut up jay, at least he has more brain cells than you’

that sure did hush jay up but not without him jabbing you with his elbow

jake sneaking into the slytherin dorms for cuddles

the next morning the two of you are late to lesson and end up showing up in each others uniform

‘mr sim. i don’t recall you being placed in slytherin.’

Mcgonagall peers down at jake’s green and silver tie and then shifts her gaze to you where you’re now looking down at your own which is yellow and black

she almost smirks when she sees you hide your face behind your book

the class whistles and hoots teasingly which only makes matters worse

the funny thing is… it’s not the first time that’s happened and it most certainly won’t be the last

the quidditch rivalry never fades

‘good luck kiss?’

‘eat grass, sim. i’m about to obliterate your entire team they won’t even see it coming!’

you aggressively push past him leaving him standing there dumbfounded

and then you run back with a sheepish smile

‘with love, it’s all with love. i love you! good luck!’

then you kiss him and run back to the slytherin locker rooms, totally unaware of what you just said

it doesn’t click until the game has already started and suddenly you’re mid air freaking out on your damn broom

‘yo slytherin angel! get your head in the game!’

it’s jake and that causes you to freak out more

which he realizes AND THEN HE GRINS

‘by the way, i love you too but if you don’t get your head in the game and play like the champion i know you are, i’ll break up with you’

damn. you’re a flustered mess on your broom because that really gets you

so you play like your life depends on it

it was a close match but slytherin wins

‘so… you love me, huh?’ jake rocks back and forth on his heels with a cheeky grin

you nod ‘and i recall, you called me a champion?’

‘seriously? we’re talking about a huge step in our relationship and you’re hung up on the fact that i called you a champion?’

of course you are

it fuelled your ego

you’re so high on adrenaline that you don’t care that you’re in the middle of the quidditch pitch

dropping your precious broom, you grab jake by his collar and pull him in for a much deserved kiss

the stadium explodes with cheers but you can’t find it in you to feel embarrassed

‘i love you, my favourite champion’

oh, jake sim. he really knows how to make you putty in his hands

[kawawababy]

it's only fair

{oliver wood x reader}

You're sitting down doing your homework at the quidditch stands while occasionally watching a “friendly” scrimmage game between Gryffindor and your house, Ravenclaw. Although some of the spectators watching as well would say it could be friendlier.

You preferred to do your homework outdoors rather than inside as your dorm doesn’t stay quiet long enough for you to focused and the library, although quiet, gets too stuffy after being in there for so long. So you chose the quidditch pitch. Something about the breeze and open view calms you down if you get too stressed about your grades or an upcoming test.

Though today you didn’t know that the pitch would be occupied. You don’t mid it as much as your best friend is on your house team and it's always nice to see her play. You see her gliding through the air laughing and smiling while teasing the Gryffindor team, making her lose her balance slightly. You to let out a scoff while shaking your head. That girl always gets distracted somehow.

Having taken a break long enough, you turn your attention back to your research on Newt Scamander, famed Magizoologist. Magical creatures aren’t really your thing as you find it quite boring. You're more in to Spells, potions, and everything in between to become a great Auror.

“WATCH OUT” you heard, taking you out of your thoughts.

Looking towards the direction of the voice, your eyes met a quaffle coming straight towards you. You didn’t have time to react so your best solution was to cower and cover your face with your thick book and hope for the best. Hopefully Madam Pomrey is able to put your face back together. What seemed like forever anticipating the painful hit, you were met with nothing but a gust of air. You peeked from the top of your book only to find a member of the Gryffindor team floating on his broom stick in front of you holding the quaffle that was about to dismember your face. You let out a big sigh of relief and you were beyond grateful for this stranger’s speedy reflexes.

“WATCH WHERE YOU AIM THIS THING WILL YOU?” He screamed before throwing the ball to the closest player. I see him shook his head before he turned towards me.

“You okay there lass? Sorry about that” He spoke, concern in his voice. Your eyes scanned his face trying to see if I knew his name or not. You didn’t. Although you did find him quite handsome.

“Yes.” You said, clearing your throat. “I’m okay”

He nodded, relief feeling his eyes.

“Good. Promise that won’t happen again.” He gave you a small smile before turning around ready to fly off with his teammates.

“wait!” You shouted, making him halt in his tracks. He turned to you with confusion written on his face. You stood up and walked down a few steps to get closer to him.

“What’s your name? You saved my life and I don’t even know your name.” You told him. He smiled at you, wider than the one he gave you before.

“Oliver. Oliver Wood.” He answered with a hint of pride.

“Thank you, Oliver Wood.” You smiled back at him.

“You’re very welcome.”

Sensing that the conversation is over, you gave him a nod and started heading back to your stuff.

“Seeing as you know my name,” he called after you. “I think it’s only fair I know yours.”

You looked back at him raising your eyebrows. He mimicked you tilting his head slightly, waiting for your answer.

“y/n y/l/n”

Though it didn’t seem possible, his smile widened hearing your name. You could almost see the glint in his eyes taking it in.

“y/n y/l/n” he repeated, as if it was something he wanted to remember “Beautiful name. Unfortunate we had to meet under these circumstances. Hopefully next time will be better.”

You shot him a questioning look, slightly impressed by his boldness.

“What makes you think there’s going to be a next time?” You questioned, teasing him a little bit.

He let out a chuckle glancing at his surroundings before looking back at you once more.

“Oh I’m gonna make sure there is lass. You have my word.” He smiled at you once more before flying off and returning to the pitch, leaving you there before you could argue.

Knowing there’s no point in trying to get another word in, you headed back to your seat to gather your books. You try to ignore the blush forming on your cheeks as you put your books in your bag. There’s no way you could focus on your research paper now that the Gryffindor quidditch player has filled your mind.

You feel the heat radiating off your cheeks on the back of your hand as you walk down the stands, not even fighting the smile that’s making its way onto your face. What you didn’t see though, was that a certain quidditch player has been watching you since he returned to his post with a smile mirroring yours, ecstatic that you felt the same way about your interaction.

[sawyer-is-not-my-name]

Requested: Oliver Wood x Fem! Reader

request: Oliver wood x Fem reader whos the captain of the Ravenclaw quidditch team. Who’s secretly together but have a rival going on for show.

You zipped towards the hoops throwing the quaffle right past the keepers head and straight through the hoop. Making a quip at him as you flew back towards your teammates. The quaffle was back in your hands within a few minutes, you and your chasers making your way back towards the Gryffindor keeper.

You kept your eyes on him racing towards to hoops, before passing the quaffle off to a teammate to which they scored. A successful fake out. A groan came out of the keepers mouth as he formed some comment about how you could have never made the shot on your own.

By the end of the match you had a huge smile on your face, whilst Oliver was frowning and his whole face had gone red. You had managed to get on his nerves distracting him with your comments most of the time. His teammates getting too distracted by the ongoing feud and chiming in to bother their captain to notice the Ravenclaw seeker catching the snitch.

You flew down to the field, dismounting quickly. “And to think we went easy on you.” a smirk graced your lips as you spoke. Oliver remained stone faced, as you approached. “Big talk for someone who almost fell off her broom.” You narrowed your eyes at him, “Maybe if you spent more time paying attention to the game and not admiring me, Gryffindor would have won.”

You watched as his face went red, a smirk once again playing at your lips, “thats not what I-” you cut him off, “Isn’t it.” the words weren’t a question rather a statement.

By now the rest of both of your teams had cleared off the pitch. Oliver looked around before placing a kiss to your lips. “So you’re not upset at me beating you anymore?” He let a laugh, “Did I say that?” He jokingly narrowed his eyes at you, before you both let out a laugh. “How long do you think it’ll be until you they all figure it out?” you asked smiling at your boyfriend, “Probably not too much longer, Fred and George probably already know saw them collecting galleons the other day.”

You smiled at the boy, “They already said I’m going soft.” You smirked at him, “are you?” He went red again, only solidifying the answer you knew. Oliver offered you a hand, before pulling you off the pitch ready to continue with the day.

[beautifulbuckys]

Can’t Stay Away (Part 5)

PART 4

George Weasley x Reader

Summary: The holiday season brings out the best and worst in everyone. It also causes feelings to surface, much to the Potter siblings surprise. 

Warnings: A tiny bit of swearing, heated arguing, real talk between harry and reader. 

Christmas time was chaotic.

The weeks before Winter Holiday was a mess. Many final exams were floating around, stressing many older students out. One day, when Fred and I were walking to the Quidditch Pitch, we saw Oliver Wood crying and ripping up his potions marks. 

Yet, the holiday cheer seemed to cancel out the school-wide panic attack. The leaf garlands were now replaced with shiny tinsel. The bright colors hilariously contrasted the stone and brick in the Hogwarts castle was constructed with. The holographic green and red popped against the bland backgrounds. Many of the pumpkins used to decorate were turned into pies and other meals for us to enjoy. Now enchanted snowmen took their place. These snowmen were like the castle ghosts, they managed to conjure up their own looks and personalities. A few weeks ago, one tried to flirt with Ginny. 

“Aye, firehead,” A voice boomed behind us. It had this thick New York accent, one I’ve heard in American muggle movies Harry and I had watched. 

Both Ginny and I turn around, looking into the area. It’s abnormal to hear a New York accent in Scotland, sure, but it’s even more abnormal to see nothing around us. There wasn’t anyone in our eye line so we shrugged our shoulders, guessing it was someone messing with us.

“I’m down here,” The voice boomed again. It was one of the snowmen. He was around Ginny’s hip. He wore a tan vest, the buttons almost popping because of the nature of his body. He sported an undershirt too, his thin twig arms showing through the sleeves. The snowman also had a checkered golfers cap on. It sat on his frozen head like it was glued on. Professor McGonagall really outdid herself. “I’m lookin’ to ask you on a date, gorgeous.”

As politely as she could, Ginny denied the request. We continued walking to class, where she giggled as she wrote a letter to Molly updating her on the eventful life she lived. 

My favorite part about the holiday decorations though? The house wreaths. Every year, each house’s student committee put together wreaths representing the respective houses. Professor Flitwick judged this competition previously. Although it’s a newer competition, it gets seriously heated. Last year, the head of the Slytherin house committee and the head of the Ravenclaw committee got into a fist fight during their Alchemy class. It was discussed to disqualify them. However, Flitwick argued for them and said they were just so excited for Christmas that they couldn’t contain themselves. Hufflepuff ended up winning. 

Due to the big blowout last year, the stakes are high. Hufflepuff was hoping to begin a winning streak. Ravenclaw had won about 3 times in a row before Hufflepuff took the crown. So now those houses have an unspoken rivalry. 

“Bloody hell George, did you see those two 7th years in front of us? I thought the Ravenclaw girl was going to slam her plate on the Hufflepuff’s head,” Ron shouted over the loud volume of the dining hall. It was busy here this morning, many students got breakfast as their only meal of the day before studying until the sun was down. 

George nodded, “Christ, it was terrifying. I think she was gripping her plate so hard her knuckles were turning white. All over some stupid wreaths!” He exclaimed as he sat down next to Ginny, across from me. 

I frown, “Hey! I like those wreaths,”

“Of course you do,” George rolled his eyes. Something about the tone of his voice got under my skin. Why on Earth did this boy have such an attitude at 7:30 in the morning? I could talk to Snape and he’d be in a better mood. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

George shrugged. “What it’s supposed to mean is of course someone like you likes some stupid Christmas wreath competition. It’s not that serious. I just find it tomfoolery, and that’s coming from me.”

I can’t help but scoff. Is he serious?

“Someone like me? God, Weasley. You’re such a pretentious ass it’s not even funny,” I slammed the crimson napkin that was positioned on my lap on the table. Shoving myself up from the bench, I stormed out of the Great Hall. I pray no other students heard the argument. Although it was too loud in there, I doubt anyone far away from where we were sitting heard. Unbeknownst to me, Harry got up and followed me into the corridor. 

“Hey,” Harry grabbed my shoulder once we were out of sight. He turned me around to face him. His green eyes looked directly into mine, his jaw was clenched. “What’s going on with you and George? Be honest. One second he’s grabbing you hard enough to give bruises? But then the next you’re both walking together and whispering.”

“Nothing is going on, Harry,”

“Bullshit! I know when something is up. I’m the Prince of something being up. I’m not an idiot. Do you like him?” Harry was speaking lowly, yet urgently. It was just above a whisper, yet his tone was tense and cutthroat. 

“No,” I whisper, staring at the ground. It’s a lovely ground, truly. The wear and tear of the stone shone through, cracks littering the ancient rock.

Harry’s hand returned to his side. “I said be honest,”

Harry reciprocates my sigh, but heavier. “Listen, I don’t care what happens between you two. I do, but I know I can trust you to advocate for yourself with this stuff. I was you to be happy. You’ve stuck by my side our entire childhood. You’ve advocated for me during tough times even if I didn’t know about it. You’ve defended me when times get difficult. I want this for you. You deserve someone else in your corner. If it’s George, I say go for it. I see the way you both look at each other. I know he’s done some messed up stuff but if you hold onto that resentment it’ll only rot the good personality you have.”

“What if I did?” I asked, my eyes finally returning to his. “What if I did, Harry? I don’t know what’s up. That’s honesty, not me dodging the question. One second he’s unbearable to be around and a big wise guy. But when we’re alone, he’s actually not terrible.”

“Alone?”

“Not,” I sigh, “Not like that. Whenever we’re with the group he just like gravitates towards me.” 

I have no words. I just grab Harry and hold him tight. 

No matter the time or the place, we’re at each other's defense. Since we were younger, I’ve been on the clock protecting Harry from all I could. Sure, I’ve failed. A lot. Shit still happens and there is still evil in the world. Yet the sun still rises and classes resume at the pace they always do. We’re all each other has. 

“You’re my favorite brother,” I mutter into Harry’s shoulder. The tears that sat in my eyes began to fall, wetting the charcoal robes he was wearing. 

Harry chuckles, “I’m your only brother.”

As the holiday break inched closer, so did everyone to losing their minds. Many, many students began pulling all-nighters in the library. So much so, in fact, that Dumbledore banned sleeping in the library. In response to the ban, people began just checking out the books and doing it in their common rooms. Even Ron, one of the more laid-back Weasleys, was waking up late due to the fact he studied until the sun rose. Many of the students in my History of Magic class, including George, had bloodshot eyes. 

George was actually slumped over his desk, drooling onto his textbooks when I walked into the Gryffindor common room. Harry had requested a small snack, as he was cooped up in his dormitory studying as well. I had to pull a few stings with a Haywood girl, a family familiar with the Hufflepuff house. Much as the Weasleys were with Gryffindor. All I managed to get him was a banana and some regular crackers, which I suppose was better than nothing. 

Silently, I tip-toed up the steps into the boys' dorms. Technically, I’m not allowed to walk up the steps due to the fact I’m not a boy, Fred and George had actually taught me a way to step without the staircase detecting me. 

I quietly knocked on the door, to which there was no reply. I shrug, deciding to open up anyways. If I see anything I shouldn’t, that’s on me. 

As I open up the door, I see the most adorable sight. Ron and Harry were sprawled out on a bed, books scattered everywhere. Ron had a Potions textbook opened up on his chest, however, he was out cold. Harry laid flat on his stomach. In his hand, he helped a Herbology book above if where his head lay. There were a few scrolls laid out on the floor. Some had writing, others didn’t. I stepped over the academic mess and placed Harry’s snack on his bedside table. 

“Night boys,” I laughed. 

The day exams were over, it was like a breath of fresh air. Many bloodshot eyes and sluggish walks transformed into bright smiles and happy laughs. It hinted that Christmas was near. Christmas used to be my least favorite holiday. Along with Harry. We never got presents. We sat and watched Dudley open all his. When we finally went to the Weasley’s full time, it became one of my favorites. Although the Weasley’s weren’t exactly rich, they tried. Everyone got presents. Nobody was ever left behind. Even if it was just one present. It never went unappreciated by the Weasley’s. Ginny loved making handmade gifts. When she found out about the necklace incident with George, she made me a gorgeous butterfly necklace. Fred and George love gifting their pranks. Ron usually just gifts snacks. Yet, I loved it. Harry loved it. It wasn’t just about the gifts to us. 

It was the family. 

Christmas Eve was charming. Despite the Weasley home always having a charm, tonight was something special.

The entire family sat around the fireplace after dinner. Everyone’s stomachs were full of Christmas ham and mashed potatoes. Ginny tested out a recipe from a Muggle cookbook with the carrots from our garden. The general vibe of the house was high. It was Weasley tradition to pick out 1 gift you made or purchased and gift it to whoever it belongs to. 

“A magician never shares his secret, Gin,” 

Ginny received a silk headband from George. A bright smile struck her face like lightning. She ran over to George and enveloped him in the tightest hug I’d ever seen.

“Thank you thank you thank you! How-how did you afford this? Where is it from? I love it!” Ginny tightened her grip on her brother. A large smile also found its way onto George’s face. Both laughed, Molly aweing at the display of affection in front of her. 

Ron gifted Percy a large bag of only chocolate frogs. Despite Percy’s stuck-up attitude, he loved candy. He accepted the gift with a soft thank you. Although he thought nobody noticed, I watched him quietly dig into the bag and shove the chocolate into his mouth. Arthur got Fred a small, muggle child, chemistry set. It was a gag gift, sure. It didn’t go unappreciated by Fred though.

“Woah! Dad, this is so cool. I’m totally using this in potions to make fun of Snape,” Fred giggled.

Molly smacked Arthur with some tissue paper she had in her hand from the gift she had opened. “Don’t encourage the boys Arthur!”

Fred chuckled, leaning into my ear. “I see some howlers in our future,”

Slowly, the family dwindled down. Ron and Harry ran upstairs to go play with the model Hogwarts Express that Molly had gifted Ron. They didn’t even say good night. Percy hobbled up the stairs not too soon after, mumbling something about a stomach ache. Arthur and Molly decided to use the time to stuff some last-minute gifts underneath the tree before heading off to bed. 

Ginny was laying down on the couch, with her head in my lap. I found my hands playing with her hair. It was soft, and the deepest red out of the family. It was long and incredibly fun to braid. Fred was seated next to me, having a soft conversation with George who was seated in the floor. His back was leaning on the base of the arm of the couch. His red hair was messy, and the dancing flames of the fire pit lit his face gorgeously. 

Ginny looked up at me, “I can’t believe this is your like 5th Christmas with us. You’re so old,” She whined. I pulled a small strand of her hair playfully with a smug smile on my face. 

“I know, I’m basically old enough to be your Grandmother. Your brothers aged me tremendously,” I giggled. The twins heard the comment and voiced their disagreement with a fake offended whine. Ginny laughed, closing her eyes.

Ginny yawned, turning so she was now facing the fireplace, her ear now on my thigh. “Tell me about it!”

As Fred and George spoke, Ginny dozed off into a slumber. The heat of the fire was comforting and warm. Perfect conditions to nap, I can’t blame her. There were a few moments where the girl let out a soft snore. It filled the gaps where Fred and George’s conversation didn’t take up all the silence. 

“G’nite, Potter girl,” Fred whispered, softly nudging my shoulder. “I’m off to bed, want me to carry Ginny up?”

I shook my head, bidding Fred a good night. It left me, a sleeping Ginny, and George remaining. Normally, I’d be uncomfortable. Past me would be. I’d be filled with an angry feeling, always ready to let out a wise quip. However, the uncomfortable feeling I was left with now was one of…butterflies? After Harry and I’s talk, I got to thinking. I realized he was right. I’ve devoted so much of my time to ensuring Harry’s happiness that I was too wrapped up in being miserable. I let one mistake sour what could be a flourishing friendship. Or a possible relationship.

“Happy Christmas, George,” I blurted. The soft crackling of the wood in the fire was enough noise for me. I don’t know why I needed to add more noise. 

He looked up from where he was positioned. He cracked a smile, looking me up and down. “Happy Christmas to you too. Is she awake?” I noticed I was still playing with Ginny’s hair, twisting it in between my fingers.

“No,”

George got up from where he was seated on the floor. As he turned to face me, the kitchen light highlighted the dusted red on his cheeks. The couch was close to the fire. The heat caused some redness, funny. The baby blue pajamas he wore looked too comfy. Like if I wore them I’d die from comfiness or something. 

“Can I be honest?” I ask.

George chuckles nervously, “I’d hope so.”

I nod, “I had this talk with Harry. About resentment and being happy, and…us. I used to hate you. I used to carry this anger whenever I saw you but, now? It’s just, melted away. I want to be happy.”

“I’m sick of pretending to hate you,”

“Pretending?” George asks, furrowing his brows. He takes Fred’s seat next to me, while Ginny continues to sleep.

“Yeah?”

“I want you.”

George stares at me for a second. He must think I’m playing some cruel joke on him. Pranking him like he has to me so many times before. Before I can even think. Before I can convince myself to do otherwise. I grab George’s jaw and pull it towards me, locking our lips. His lips were cracked, but somehow felt so right against mine. Time could’ve stopped and it wound’t have mattered. Whatever was going on, and wherever this goes; I don’t care. This is the only feeling I want for the rest of time.

It wasn’t a long kiss. But it communicated just how I felt to George.

“I want this too,”

If I had paid any attention to the stairs to my right, I would’ve seen two shadows casting down the stairway. 

“Tis the season?” Harry held out his fist.

Fred smiled. “Tis the season,” He bumped Harry’s fist, and the pair quickly returned their room so they weren’t caught. Not that they had anything to worry about.

______________________________________________________________

taglist:

@v0id-sp1rit​

[7s3ven]

I need some HP requests, omg. I mainly write for the Slytherin gang (including Tom) bc I know them best and writing toxic fics for them is just SO EASY. But I also write for Cedric and Oliver, LOL

PLZZ GIVE ME REQUESTS.

[flamboyantly-incompetent]

OoTP, Chapter 2 - Quidditch Tryouts

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: death mentions

Masterlist

Word Count: 2446

Note: Something that really bothered me about book/movie 5 was how the only people who seemed to be truly bothered by Cedric's death were Harry and Cho. I attempt to fix that.

In years past, the atmosphere of the Hufflepuff common room had been warm and lively. Ever since Cedric Diggory died, though, the weight of his absence was ever present. People sat by the fire, tended their favorite hanging plants, and studied at the great cherry wood tables in silence, eerily somber.

No sooner were you five steps in were you set upon by Zacharias Smith.

"Y/L/N!" he said, eyes lighting up at the sight of you. He had never reacted this way to your presence before. "You fly, right?"

You blinked. "Erm, kind of?"

"I'm Quidditch captain this year. We're holding tryouts on Thursday for Cedric's spot, and a ton of other people have left too." Everyone in the room paused what they were doing to stare at him.

Olive Sceptre, a fifth year with long red hair and freckles, said weakly, "We're just going to replace him?"

"We can't play without a Seeker," he snapped. "What am I supposed to do?"

No one spoke for what seemed a long time, the only noises being the crackling from the fireplace and the soft whoosh from the enchanted breeze. Finally, Ezra Roberts, a seventh year and one of Cedric's friends, broke the silence and said, "He loved Quidditch mate, it's not an insult. We'll be there."

Zacharias turned his gaze back to you, and you nodded stiffly. His shoulders relaxed and he nodded back, then returned to his spot at a table.

A number of first years looked around at each other in confusion. It was unfortunate, really - the rest of their year had been welcomed into their houses with some semblance of normalcy, but for Hufflepuff, they'd unwittingly inherited a grief they had no rights to. You shook your head in a daze and retreated back into the hallway. The smell of dinner had already begun to emanate from the kitchens.

"Y/N!" a voice called from behind you. It was Herbert, followed closely by Yvette and Donna - your best friends since they'd saved you from a Peeves episode in second year. "Did Zacharias find you? He asked a few other people at breakfast. I know we have to, y'know, to play but it just seems-"

Yvette pulled all of you around, and interrupted, "We were just about to head to dinner but wanted to find you first. So let's go." You followed obediently.

"D'ya hear Sprout's got an aquaponics?"

"I was just there - it's pretty impressive. She's growing snake venom plants over leaping koi. Said Advanced Herbology students might be able to try something similar next year."

Donna grinned. "I expect a full report, we'll be the most prepared once we get there. We've just got into Bubotubers, and I can already tell it's going to be disgusting."

With the promise of something delicious and filling, you never thought to mention that you'd offered to tutor a Slytherin a full year ahead of you. Instead the conversation made laps around Herbology, Quidditch tryouts, and the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and her sycophantic dedication to the textbook.

"I've heard some Ravenclaws talking about it," Donna said between bites of stew. "They seem to think her qualifications begin and end with her involvement at the Ministry. Which isn't nothing, but still. And 'High Inquisitor' has never been a thing 'til now."

"I miss Hagrid," Yvette said despondently, "Grubbly-Plank seems nice but her lesson plans are so," she paused to poke around on her plate with a fork, "well, boring."

Herbert snorted, "Not any more boring than flobber worms."

You looked up to chime in, and made completely accidental eye contact with Draco Malfoy from across the room. He looked incredibly smug, but looked away from you very quickly before you had a chance to wave. Disappointing, but not surprising. You'd expected him to be an ass.

"I'm not sure anything will top those unicorn colts from last year," you said, turning your attention back to the conversation at hand. "And he always offered me tea whenever I stopped by to ask questions."

Just then, over Donna's shoulder, a Gryffindor seventh year stomped down an aisle shouting, "Oy!" Donna and Herbert turned around subtly to observe whatever drama promised to ensue.

A disheveled and tired looking Harry Potter froze in the doorway. You'd only ever spoken one word to him - a quiet 'sorry' for stamping on his foot accidentally during a Herbology lesson in your second year - but it was hard not to recognize him. Especially after last term. Harry Potter, the boy who lived and apparently kept living, clutching Cedric's dead body, screaming about You-Know-Who was not a sight you'd soon forget. You shivered. Cedric had often been the life of the common room and, though you hadn't known him well either, you often found yourself wishing he was still around to crack jokes and hand out sugar quills to first years.

"So," Herbert said darkly, turning back around, "wha'd'ya reckon?"

Donna bit into an apple tart, eyebrow raised. Yvette replied, "About what?"

Herbert rolled his eyes. "About Cedric. About You-Know-Who being back. Nothing happened over the summer. When we all went home I expected to be in some kind of martial law. Daily Prophet says Potter's barking. Dumbledore too."

Donna scoffed, "Daily Prophet also said Harry was twelve and in love with Hermione Granger, and it's so, painfully obvious he's got the hots for Cho Chang."

You nodded. "True."

"So do you think." Yvette whispered, "they were maybe fighting over her and it got out of hand?"

"No," you said quickly, "not at all. I doubt, well I don't know him so I don't know, but I doubt he'd've done that." Donna shook her head too.

Herbert crossed his arms. "Well maybe it was just a trick of the maze. Like a boggart or something. And then-"

"Then what happened to Cedric? And I think if it was part of the game, Dumbledore would've known." You bit your lip, thinking, then continued, "I dunno, I expected something major too. But my mum says between Dumbledore and Fudge, her money's on Dumbledore."

"I think maybe," Dona started, eyebrows knit together, "maybe we'll just have to wait and see."

A Ravenclaw from the table behind leaned over, it was Luna. She said, "My father, he runs The Quibbler, we think-"

"What's that?" Yvette interrupted. "The Quivler?"

Luna huffed. "Quibbler. We think-"

"Never heard of it."

Luna reached into her robes and pulled out a colorful magazine. She tossed it into Yvette's lap and continued, "We think Dumbledore and Harry Potter are telling the truth. And that the Prophet should find itself some real journalists." She tossed some hair over her shoulder. "Y/N, have you started the Arithmancy assignment? You may want to, I almost missed dinner working through it."

"Oh, uh, thanks Luna." She nodded and turned back to her table.

Donna blinked a few times. "Anyway, do you reckon you'll make the team this time?"

You sighed. "I don't know. I don't know if I want to make the team. When I tried out last year I just wanted a reason to ask for a broom for Christmas, and I have a broom now. And you know me - I don't have a competitive bone in my body."

"There's always Keeper," Donna said, mouth full of roasted broccoli, "and you've got to try out at least. I am."

Herbert looked up sharply. "You hate flying."

"Well, yeah, but I've never had a reason to do it. Maybe if I did I'd like it."

Yvette rolled her eyes. "Maybe. I'm trying out too."

"Okay," you said, "I will too then. Herb?"

"If you insist."

Thursday evening rolled around after a long day of Charms, Transfiguration, and History of Magic. Herbert, Yvette and Donna came with you to an empty common room after classes so you could fetch your broom. Hoping to keep it a secret, though apparently your attempt had been in vain, you'd been keeping your Cleansweep 7 under your bed. The girl's dormitory was empty too, aside from your white fluffy cat, Wilbur, who was sprawled out across the floor. You scratched behind his ears for a moment and grabbed your broom.

Back in the common room, you said, "D'you reckon everyone's at the Quidditch pitch?"

The four of you tramped across the grounds to the pitch where, as you'd predicted, what looked like every single Hufflepuff had congregated.

Madam Hooch and Zacharias were leading the other two remaining players from last year, a beater and another chaser, all carrying three school brooms each.

"You'll have to share," Madam Hooch said. "Are you all trying out?"

Most people nodded, a few shook their heads and one simply said, "Moral support."

Hooch sighed and said, "Well at least that much hasn't changed. Smith, you may need to book the pitch again next week for a second round. Let me know."

Zacharias had everyone get into groups for the position they'd like to try out for, and you shuffled into the smallest group for Keeper, then the rest of Hufflepuff - the spectators - found seats in the stands joined by Professor Sprout, who beamed broadly at everyone who'd look her way.

"We'll start with Chasers," said Zacharias. "It should be easiest to fill spots from there. Olive, you're up."

Tryouts wore on. Zacharias and Cadwallader juggled the quaffle with increasingly complex passes, all the while McManus did his best to pelt the given new comer with a bludger. It was pretty fun to watch, though there were a few solid hits that ended with a trip to Madam Pomfrey.

Donna did exquisitely poorly, dodging the quaffle as fervently as the bludger, and then quitting almost immediately after catching the quaffle the first time. All she said was, "Nauseous," as she left the pitch to lay down in the stands.

However, Yvette did quite well on her turn, managing to roll on her broom to avoid a bludger and make a tough catch all at once. After she got off her broom, Zacharias shook her hand and said something, then she looked at you with a giddy glint in her eye. You shot her a thumbs up.

Yvette, officially on the team, Beaters were next. You sat with the Keeper and Seeker groups on the cold grass to await your turn. The team continued in quite the same way, just with a new player. Ezra Roberts managed to land a solid hit that sent a thwak echoing across the field, and hit Zacharias squarely in the gut. The quaffle soared past his head. Ezra was welcomed to the team.

Seekers were next, due to their specific need for some amount of daylight. Instead of using an actual snitch, which could be lost for days if uncaught, Zacharias produced a basket of gold painted golf balls, which he sent whizzing into the air at random intervals to see who could catch the most. Herbert did a fair job, but Devon Summerby, admittedly the obvious choice, was welcomed to the team.

Finally, it was time for the Keepers. Only five of the original group had stuck around; most had trailed off to complete homework, though they, and the rest of Hufflepuff, remained in the stands, reading by wand light. Zacharias dismissed the Beaters and the new Seeker, who also clambered into the stands.

Your name was called, and you mounted your broom and kicked off to the circle the goalposts. The sun had disappeared behind the castle, casting long shadows all the way to the forest.

"Just try to keep us from scoring, yeah?" Zacharias shouted.

"Got it!" you shouted back. Quick as a jinx, they zoomed towards you, and you focused on keeping an eye on the quaffle. From Smith to Cadwallader, to Yvette then back to Cadwallader, you blocked the quaffle as it soared towards the leftmost hoop with the back end of your broom. Zacharias recalled the quaffle and you went again. You blocked the next few attempts as well, fairly at home in the air, and it was fun enough.

You were willing to admit, being on the Quidditch team wouldn't be the worst thing.

Something caught your eye from the ground - silvery white hair. Draco Malfoy and the Slytherins who seemed to be constantly one step behind him had marched onto the pitch, brooms in hand, and were scowling at the proceedings. He met your eyes, surprised. The quaffle soared by your head and into the center goal.

"Sorry," you said in a daze, "I got distracted."

Zacharias flew up next to you. "That's alright. Pretty good job, too. Could you send Wanda up?"

You nodded and flew back to the group still sitting on the field. "Wanda, your turn." Wanda Clemm, a sixth year with tight curls and a gap tooth grin, launched herself into the air and proceeded to block every quaffle thrown at her.

Malfoy, standing with his arms folded, refused to look at you as if he had no idea who you were or why he'd even want to acknowledge your existence. The taller one of his two companions caught you looking and sneered. You raised an eyebrow and returned your attention to the players descending from the sky.

Zacharias clapped once and said, "Thanks to everybody for coming out - I think we've got a good lineup this year, all things considered. That's a wrap." People began filtering out of the stands as he turned to you. "Hey, I was wondering if I could make you the substitute in case somebody can't play? You'd have been Keeper if it weren't for that last one."

"Sure!" you said, the surprise evident in your voice, "Of course."

"Great. See you later!"

Yvette, Herbert, Donna, and yourself gathered to walk back to the common room. Then you heard Malfoy say, not even a little under his breath, "Their best player loses a fight with a hedge and they have to try everyone in the house for a suitable replacement? Pathetic." The creaking from the stands stopped as everyone who'd heard him froze. It seemed that no one quite knew what to do.

So, before you had a chance to think about it, you stomped over and snapped up at him, "Have you ever considered not being such a gigantic git?"

"Ten points," Professor Sprout said, "from Slytherin Mr. Malfoy. And ten points from Hufflepuff, Miss Y/L/N. For unsportsmanlike conduct. the both of you are out of line."

You glared at each other for another moment before you turned on your heel abruptly and retreated to the common room with the rest of your house.

~~~ Taglist ~~~

@yeolsbubbles

@ronslovergirl

[dreamcubed]

more than a woman | oliver wood x reader

song; more than a woman [bee gees] pairing; oliver wood x fem!ravenclaw!reader genre; fluff, s2l word count; 5,1k timeline; chamber of secrets warnings; swearing, mentions of anxiety summary; y/n was one of many who fancied the obsessive quidditch boy, and to her surprise, she was of interest to him as well

a/n; you know it really doesn't make sense to me that the quidditch teams in hogwarts were limited to the number of players you could have on the pitch at a time: why no spares? what if someone can't make a match? so anyway imagine that no one has been kicked off the team for the sake of this oneshot, and chloe is just another member of the team

also i don't follow canon a bit at the end

masterlist

parts: || one | two ||

"more than a woman to me."

——————————————

You knew him as the captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team: everyone knew him as that. You also knew that you weren't the only one whose heart fluttered whenever you caught sight of him, as he was a common crush among yours and his years, him being a year older than you. Nonetheless, you didn't really mind, as a crush on Oliver Wood made school much more interesting, and due to his obsession with quidditch, it seemed unlikely he would date and therefore there was no one to be jealous of.

One person you were jealous of, though, was your friend Chloe, as she shared a house with him and also played for his quidditch team. You were well aware she had no interest in the boy, and actually found him rather irritating, but you envied the fact she had more opportunities to talk to him. She didn't know you fancied Wood, as you were afraid she would make fun of you, so you surely hoped that she didn't think it suspicious that you made an extra effort to hang out with her whenever Wood was in the vicinity.

Like, for example, one breezy autumn morning when you headed over to the Gryffindor table to ask Chloe if she had done the transfiguration homework, upon seeing that Wood was sat opposite her. You - of course - knew that she would have done the homework: this was Chloe you were talking about. Nonetheless, it was a chance to be near Wood.

She was engaged in conversation with him when you arrived, just to your luck.

Chloe's eyes lit up when you reached her, saying, "In fact, Y/N's just the person to talk to."

"About what?"

"Your grandmother was a famous quidditch player, wasn't she? Grace Landen?"

"...Yes...?"

"Landen is your grandmother?" Wood's eyes widened as he looked upon you, "And you're just now telling me this?"

"I didn't know it was of interest to you." A blatant lie: you knew he would be interested in the fact you were the descendant of a famous quidditch player.

"Of course it's of interest to me, lass."

Lass. You liked that.

"Seriously. She was one of the best keepers to ever play. I look up to her."

You nodded, "She's an impressive woman."

"Do you know her training regime? Her old schedules? Her old diet?"

"No... but I can owl her if you want." This was finally a chance for you to get to know him.

"I don't want to bother you, lass."

"Really, it's fine. I should owl her more anyway."

The grin that stretched across his face caused butterflies in your stomach. "Thank you."

You beamed at him.

***

The second you received a reply from your grandmother, you ran to find Wood, as he wasn't at breakfast. You asked the Weasley twins where he was, who replied that he was most likely already down at the quidditch pitch doing some solo training. They said he often came for breakfast and left before most people were even awake. You made a mental note of that for future mornings.

The walk down to the pitch was already a long one, but it felt even longer with the excited anticipation bubbling inside of you. You eventually reached the large field stadium, which you had always assumed was vacant at this time of day, but was clearly occupied by the Gryffindor quidditch captain defending the hoops from an apparently charmed quaffle.

You waved up to him, and he quickly noticed you and flew down. Before he greeted you, he took out his wand to de-charm the quaffle, and then turned to you with a grin.

"What can I do for you, lass?"

Reaching into your cloak, you pulled out the piece of folded parchment paper that had been dropped off to you that very morning, and presented it to him.

"Seriously?" his eyes lit up, and the next thing you knew you were engulfed in a hug. Upon letting go, he said, "I know you said you would, but I didn't think you actually would."

You shrugged, "Why would I lie?" Your cheeks were still on fire from the embrace.

"Ah, I don't know," he said, "Are you sure there isn't anything private in here?"

"No, Rowena, no. I was just making light conversation with her, nothing serious."

You watched as he unfolded the paper and began reading through it. "Godric, this is a lot. Not much on diet, though."

"She always said it was unhealthy to fixate too much on food, and that you should just try to eat a lot of protein before practices and matches."

"I guess that's true," he folded up the paper, "D'you mind if I keep this?"

You shook your head, "I have no need for it."

"Thanks, lass," he tucked it into his pocket, before turning back to the pitch, "Have you inherited any of her talent?"

"Uh, I don't think so, maybe? I've never really played."

"How are you the granddaughter of a quidditch legend and never played quidditch?"

You shrugged.

"C'mon, let's play one-on-one with just the quaffle."

"I don't know how helpful playing against me would be."

"Who said anything about help? C'mon, let's have fun," he grinned, making you weak in the knees.

"Okay," you agreed, dreading fucking up in front of him.

"Have you got a broom?"

You shook your head.

"Ah, well, we can't have you using the school ones. That's not a fair game," he pondered for a moment, "Tell you what, you can use my old one. My dad got me a new broom for my birthday a few months ago, but my old one is still perfectly fine." He moved over to the broom shed by the changing rooms. "At least, it's nowhere near as bad as the school ones," he added.

"You sure?"

"Of course, but this broom means a lot to me - I played my first match here on it - so be careful."

That made you nervous.

He sensed your apprehension and laughed lightly, "Don't worry too much, lass, it's not like we're playing with bludgers."

That reminder did calm you down a bit, but you were still full of anxiety as you took off your robe and tie - grateful you opted for trousers that day - and climbed on to the broom. One of your biggest fears was looking like a total fucking idiot in front of your long time crush.

Wood could still clearly tell that you had your worries. He shouted across to you. "We'll ease into it at first, okay? Trust me, once you're in the rhythm of the game you'll be fine."

You nodded at him, keeping an eye on the quaffle locked underneath his right arm as you prepared for him to throw it up into the air.

At first, you fumbled a lot and lost a few points to Wood, but once your confidence on the broom grew and you began to be more comfortable with only using one hand, you managed to catch Wood off guard and get the quaffle through a hoop. You turned around on the broom with your face lit up happily; your hands in the air as you cheered for yourself. Wood cheered for you as well, despite being the opposition.

"That wasn't half bad, L/N. With a bit of training you'd be a mean chaser."

Never had a compliment ignited such warmth into your heart.

It also gave you a bit more courage than before, and you found yourself chasing Wood a bit more eagerly, and trying harder to stop him scoring. When you successfully blocked him from scoring for the first time, catching the ball in your hand, you were too consumed with joy to remember that it meant you were supposed to then fly to the other end of the pitch in an attempt to score a goal.

Wood knocked your broom to get you to drop the ball, diving down quickly to catch it, at which point you were so full of adrenaline that your instincts kicked. You hit the quaffle with the end of your broom when he tried to score again, sending it halfway down the pitch as you immediately chased after it. You then caught the quaffle, and were in the final stretch to the other hoops to score when you felt Wood's presence beside you.

Your determination was fuelled further: you ducked down to fly underneath him, in an attempt to throw him off, and then circled him again before throwing the quaffle directly at the centre hoop. It went through, and at that point you were even more thrilled than you had been at all the previous quidditch achievements you had made in the last hour.

In a dance of triumph, despite the fact that you were definitely losing the game, you rolled your broom over in the air, unable to wipe the grin off your face.

Wood simply stopped and stared at you, grinning just as wide - if not wider - than you were.

"See how fun quidditch is, lass?"

You nodded, your cheeks warmed both from the quidditch and the intensity of his gaze upon you.

"And this is just with the quaffle and two players. Imagine how much more fun it gets when you have two full teams and all four balls."

You grimaced, "I don't like the sound of playing whilst bludgers are flying around."

"Well, that's what the beaters are for."

"Yeah, but you have the Weasley twins on your side. If I played for my house, I wouldn't have the same sort of prodigy-level protection. In fact, those prodigies would be against me."

Wood gave you an expression that read "fair point" before looking up at the castle to see students begin moving in and out of the doors.

"Shit," you muttered, "I'm gonna be late for potions. Snape is gonna do my head in."

You began flying down, back to the side of the pitch. Wood remained hovering in the air, in the same location as you had just been.

"This was fun, Wood!" you yelled up at him, waving your arm in goodbye.

He waved back at you, "Come play again anytime, lass!"

You gave him a thumbs up, before grabbing your robe and tie and beginning a sprint back up to the castle.

It wasn't even eleven o'clock yet and you were probably going to lose house points for the first time ever over tardiness, but you could still safely say you had never had such a good day.

***

You continued to owl back and forth with your grandmother for the next week, and it was almost a week after you had played quidditch with Wood (and spoken to him last, for that matter), when you received a gift from her. It was her old Ravenclaw quidditch shirt from when she used to play at school, kept in surprisingly good condition.

Immediately, you looked around the hall in search of Wood, and spotted him sat near the Weasley twins on the Gryffindor table. It was a rare morning that he had decided to not go for early morning solo practice. You roughly wrapped the shirt back up in its packaging before heading over to where he was: summoning every last bit of courage within yourself to do so. His face lit up when he spotted you in his peripheral, which made you feel fuzziness inside of you.

Sitting sideways on the bench by his side, you presented the parcel to him, "Look what my nan sent me."

He picked up the shirt to observe it properly, "Shit, lass, I really am jealous that you're related to her."

"Calm down, Wood, all you gotta do is marry L/N and then Landen's your in-law," either Fred or George piped in, you couldn't tell which.

"Aye, true," was all Wood said in response, which opened up an unreasonable amount of hope within you.

As you looked across at Chloe, who was sat opposite you, you realised she could see your flustered state. It looked like the cat was far out of the bag by the smile she gave you, paired with the mischievous look in her eyes. She pointed at Wood with her eyes, widening her grin.

You glared at her: a silent warning to keep her mouth shut.

While you exchanged a wordless conversation with Chloe, Wood had been talking with the twins about some of your grandmother's most famous moments, and it was clear how much he adored quidditch by the way he spoke.

"Godric, L/N, please take this man to see your nan soon, maybe then he'll actually shut up about quidditch for once," one of the twins said.

You gave him a pointed stare, "I think that would make him talk more if anything."

"Even better then, follow through with the marriage plan so he bothers you instead of us," the other twin spoke as they both stood up to leave.

"I don't talk about quidditch that much," Wood said.

"You do," Chloe stood up, "Now if you could forgive me for borrowing Mrs Wood, we have study group in the library to get to."

Ignoring what she referred to you as, you picked up your shirt and said goodbye to Wood, before following Chloe to the library. You prepared yourself as best you could for the bombardment of questions that were inevitably about to follow.

***

The next day it was a Saturday, and you decided to brave your luck and get up early to see if you could catch Wood going out for a morning solo practice. You knew the Gryffindor team didn't have scheduled practice until later that morning, but you also knew what Wood was like.

Sure enough, you walked into the Great Hall to see Wood eating by himself at one end of the Gryffindor table. The only other students awake were a few other Ravenclaws and Hermione Granger, who were all likely up for some early morning studying. Wood noticed you as you entered the hall, and waved you over to him.

"Come for a re-match, lass?" he tilted his head with a smirk, making you grin.

"If you're up for it, Wood."

"With you? Always," he beamed, "Now, eat up. Your nan said you've gotta get your protein before practice, after all."

You sat opposite him and began tucking into bacon and hash browns, readying yourself for a long morning of practice for a sport you didn't even play.

The two of you played for a good couple hours before the rest of the Gryffindor team arrived for practice, at which point you reluctantly flew to the ground. Wood had let you use his old broom again, and you had opted to wear your grandmother's old quidditch shirt to fit the theme.

You hopped off the broom near the rest of the team, and greeted them with a smile, "Morning, everyone."

You heard a chorus of, "Morning, L/N," in response. Apart from a distinct, "So this is where you got to," from Chloe.

"Sorry, did I keep L/N from you, Smith?" Wood asked, landing down next to you.

"No, not at all, I just didn't expect to not see her at breakfast this morning."

"I told you she'd be down here," one of the twins, who you hazarded a guess at being Fred, said.

"I mean, your exact words were 'she's probably with her husband', not specifying the quidditch pitch."

"It's Wood, that's basically the same thing."

"Alright, enough chit-chat," Wood said, "On your brooms, everyone, start off with a simple game of catch to get you warmed up."

He turned to you as the rest of the Gryffindor team took off into the air.

"I'll see you later, lass," he said, "This has been spectacular."

You couldn't help but smile bashfully in response, "Couldn't agree more, Wood, I'll see you around."

As you began walking off the pitch, he yelled after you. "Just call me Oliver!" And before you could form a reply, he had taken off from the ground along with the rest of his team.

Yeah, you were in deep.

***

The days began to get colder as Christmas creeped closer to fruition: Hogsmeade trips, like usual, were becoming the highlight of students' lives. You were definitely one of those students, wandering the familiar streets of the cosy Winter village with Chloe.

Ever since she found out you fancied Oliver Wood, she had been teasing you relentlessly. Hogsmeade trips were no exception.

"Should we go in the Three Broomsticks?"

"Why? Hoping to bump into Wood there?"

You glared at Chloe, but had no comeback.

"He's here somewhere, you know," she added, "Your insane husband finally took a day off quidditch."

"He's not my husband."

"You wish he was."

You sent another glare in her direction.

"He hasn't corrected anyone who says it," she continued, "I think that's a pretty sure sign that he likes you back."

"You- you think so?"

"In what world is it not?"

You shrugged, "This world, maybe."

Chloe scoffed, "C'mon, let's get some butterbeers."

As the two of you entered the homely pub, your stomach flipped at the sight of Oliver sat at a table with a group of people, including people from his year and members of the Gryffindor quidditch team. His eyes met yours when he looked up at the sound of the over-door bell ringing, and your stomach flipped again when his lips stretched into a smile.

You graced him with a smile in return before Chloe dragged you over to their table and then promptly disappeared to order drinks.

"Oh, sorry," one of the twins apologised, making you frown at him until he stood up and said, "Move over, Georgie, let L/N sit next to her husband."

"No, Fred, you don't need to-" you began to say, but they had already moved along the booth bench and sat down again, meaning you looked like a dick if you didn't take the space they had made for you. This presented you with a whole new dilemma: shuffle between the table and twins to get to the space, or shuffle between the table and Lee Jordan and Oliver to get to the space.

With the pressure of sitting down growing, you took the side that was closest to you, which happened to involve Oliver. You got past Jordan with little to no uncomfortable physical contact, but the table was slanted in a way that meant there was less space between Oliver and the table than with Jordan.

"Sorry, lass," he said, gently brushing his hands against your hips to help guide you smoothly past him.

As you sat down, your thigh rubbed against his, which made heat rush to your cheekbones: you couldn't help but notice how everyone was staring at you, which made you very grateful for Chloe's return.

When she saw your seating position, she opened her mouth as if she was about to say something, but evidently decided against it before grabbing a chair from another table to sit down. The group fell into individual conversations as you remembered something you had been meaning to tell Oliver.

"Oliver."

He hummed, turning his attention away from another conversation.

"My nan owled this morning - she said you can come over and meet her during the Christmas holiday."

Then you were encompassed in a tight hug: something that never failed to catch you off guard when from Oliver Wood.

"At this rate I'll actually have to marry you, lass."

Blood swarmed to your ears at the furthered prospect of marrying him, and to prevent an awkward silence you said, "I don't think we can legally get married."

"Yeah, not right now we can't."

You wished him saying that didn't spark the inkling of hope it did.

"Anyway, uh, if you do want to visit, I can owl you about it to arrange a time."

He beamed at you, "That would be great, thank you, lass."

"It's nothing, really."

It was far from nothing: these interactions meant the world to you.

***

Today was the day you had been long awaiting.

The day that Oliver Wood, Gryffindor quidditch captain and your long-time crush, would be coming over to your famous grandmother's. You were staying at hers for a couple of days specifically for the event, despite the fact he was unlikely to be there for more than a few hours. You just didn't want your grandmother to think you were only visiting her for him.

It was arranged that he would arrive via floo powder, and so you were anxiously sat on the sofa across from the fireplace. Your grandmother was in the kitchen making tea, and you were partially grateful she wasn't there to witness the state you were in.

In the corner of your eye, the fireplace lit up in green flames as a figure emerged from it. There Oliver was, grinning at you, while he wiped off the soot from his travel. You were quick to hand him a rag to aid with the cleaning up.

"My nan is just in the kitchen," you said, making him frown, which made you frown in return.

"Not even a hello?"

Your eyes widened, "Oh- sorry- I just- you're not really here for me though, are you?"

He stared at you expectantly.

"Hello, Oliver."

"Hello, lass, it's good to see you."

Your grandmother then entered the room, and nothing warmed your heart more than watching Oliver's eyes light up with pure excitement and adoration. He began gushing to the famous Grace Landen about his passion for quidditch as well as what an inspiration she had been to him. For some reason, you didn't feel awkward stood there in silence as you watched them, nor when you had all sat down with cups of tea on the go.

It was only when Oliver turned to look at you did you realise you had perhaps been staring for too long.

"You should see your granddaughter here, though. She's clearly inherited some of your talent - it's a shame she doesn't play."

Never had a compliment left you so flattered.

"You managed to get her up in the air?" your grandmother said, evidently shocked, "I've been trying to convince her for years, but she's always refused."

"Really? I swear I only asked like twice before she agreed."

"Well, that's probably because she likes you a lot - Merlin knows she doesn't shut up about you."

You must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights as Oliver turned to look at you again.

"Excuse me, I have to-" you stood up, raking your mind for a reason to leave, "-use the toilet."

You didn't just hear the silence- you felt it as you hurried out the room.

Rowena knows it took you a long time to bring yourself back to a composed state: in fact, you ideally needed longer but you couldn't 'use the toilet' for a suspicious amount of time. So, you worked up the courage to return, and just as you reached the doorway to the living room, you overheard them talking.

"She is a smart young woman."

"To be honest, she's more than a woman to me."

That was when your grandmother caught sight of you, smiling at you as you were forced to re-enter the room. Despite her evident friendliness, the atmosphere was awkward as you sat down next to Oliver again.

Your grandmother sensed this, and broke the silence by saying, "I have lamb in the oven if you would like to stay for dinner - we'd love to have you."

Oliver smiled, "If it's no bother to you."

***

You didn't see him again over the Christmas holidays, and you were definitely mad about that. At this point, as you dared to hope, Oliver had basically confirmed that he at least enjoyed your company. "More than a woman to me." That sounded like a love confession, if you were truly honest, but you didn't want to set yourself up for too much disappointment.

Currently, your problem was that Chloe had stayed at Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays, meaning you didn't know where to sit on the train. It felt too selfish to take up a cabin by yourself: not that that was an option, as everywhere seemed to be occupied by at least a couple people. As you progressed up the train, you caught sight of Oliver sat in a cabin with a few members of the quidditch team: it was of no surprise to you that he had already called them together for a meeting. He really did too much sometimes.

You could hear the Weasley twins especially grumbling as Oliver spoke, making you roll your eyes as you entered the cabin. "Rowena, Oliver, can't you wait a few minutes before forcing a quidditch meeting?"

"This is importa-"

"How many of you are here against your will?"

The Weasley twins immediately rose their hands, and everyone else slowly followed, giving shameful glances towards Oliver.

"Okay, you're all free to go," you said, gesturing towards the open door. Everyone began shuffling out, muttering their thanks towards you while Oliver stared at you in disbelief.

"You don't have the power to do that."

"Clearly, I do."

He frowned at you.

"Right, see you at schoo-"

"Where are you going?"

"Well- I- I don't know. Elsewhere?"

"Why? Smith isn't on the train."

"I mean I know but I- you-"

"Sit down, lass."

***

It wasn't long before the next quidditch match - in fact, a matter of a couple of weeks. Those weeks were long enough for it to be established that people still referred to you and Oliver as married, and also long enough for you to realise you were possibly in love with him. You had never imagined you would get close enough to him for the feelings to progress past a crush.

The match was Gryffindor versus Slytherin, which basically meant everyone versus Slytherin, so you were glad you had to deal with no inner conflict about who to cheer for (as even if it was Ravenclaw playing, part of you would have wanted to cheer for Oliver).

You were stood in the stands along with a mix of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, keeping your eyes glued on Oliver by the hoops. He was an amazing keeper: something you had expressed to your grandmother repeatedly.

As he saved another goal, you let cheers leave your mouth, lost in the sound of the people around you. For a brief moment, it appeared as if he looked in your direction with the biggest grin on his face, but you were just a face in the crowd so he could have been looking at anyone. To be honest, you weren't sure why you dismissed yourself like that, since you were at the very least close friends.

Hopefully more.

The match progressed as rain began to fall from the sky, but no one was budging from the stands or the pitch. You didn't even bother to cast an umbrella charm as you kept your eyes glued to the man that held your heart. To most people, he was far from the highlight of the match, but to you, he was the only thing you could focus on. Harry Potter was where other people's eyes rested: it appeared he was in the race for the golden snitch.

You finally parted your eyes from Oliver to watch Potter chase down the snitch with Malfoy close on his tail. Malfoy wasn't a bad seeker, sure, but he could never compete with Potter's natural talent.

To be honest, you don't think you've ever been more ecstatic for a quidditch game victory - not even for your own house. Everyone except the Slytherins appeared to match your energy, however, as the audience erupted in roars of praise and excitement. Harry Potter held the golden snitch up proudly in the air with his team members circling him.

"GRYFFINDOR WINS!" Lee Jordan yelled into his wand.

The second the teams had disappeared off the pitch you pushed through the crowd to run down to where the changing rooms were. The Gryffindor team weren't yet in the changing rooms, as they were still cheering and congratulating each other outside, meaning you didn't have to wait to see Oliver. He caught sight of you almost immediately, and his face stretched into an even wider smile as he began moving towards you.

It must have been the adrenaline that fuelled your actions, because you would have never done it normally, but you ran towards him and found yourself jumping into his arms. He quickly caught you, and you pushed away the scent of sweat as he span you around.

As he stilled from spinning you, you looked down at his face to see him looking up at you with the utmost adoration in his eyes - the same adoration he displayed when talking about quidditch. Those same eyes flicked towards your lips, making anticipation bubble inside of you as you looked at his. Then you mustered up even more courage inside of you and moved your hands from his neck to his head before kissing him in a rushed manner. He reciprocated your actions, even when one of the Weasley twins hollered, "Get a fucking room!"

You felt a hand move from its grip on your thigh, and parted from the kiss to see him flipping off the rest of his team. All at once, the adrenaline and courage left you at the sight of the team's eyes on you, which made you drop entirely from Oliver's hold and partially hide yourself behind him.

He merely laughed at you, before ordering his team to get changed which gave you a brief moment alone.

"You reek of sweat, Wood."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Wait for me?"

You nodded, and he pressed another quick kiss to your lips.

"See you in ten, lass."

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parts: || one | two ||

masterlist

written; 16/06/2022 —> 04/07/2022 published; 05/07/2022 edited; —/—/——