Harry Potter Oneshots

afterglow (oliver wood)

song; afterglow [taylor swift]
pairing; oliver wood x fem!ravenclaw!reader
genre; fluff, angst, hurt comfort, ex2l
word count; 1,8k
timeline; prisoner of azkaban
warnings; swearing, usual post-break up angst
summary; during your relationship with oliver, your friend groups fused to form one - so, when you broke up over a deemed "petty reason" and refused to go anywhere near each other, your friends decided to do something to fix the "split custody" situation they had found themselves in

"fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves."

———————————————

"We're children of divorce."

"Tell me about it," Faye sighed, sinking down in her seat next to Percy in the library.

"We have to do something about it," Jideofor said from his position on the floor, "It's not like they broke up because one of them cheated or - I don't know - abused the other?"

"Literally," Faye replied, "It was the pettiest fucking reason."

Penelope, sat in an armchair, looked up from her book, "They're obviously still in love with each other, too."

"What was the reason?" Percy asked, "Nobody ever told me."

"They both forgot their anniversary," Jideofor sighed, "Like, they got mad at the other for forgetting when they literally forgot themselves."

"Fucking hypocrites," Faye scoffed.

"They're both too stubborn for their own good," Penelope closed her book and placed it neatly on her lap, "So I think we ought to step in."

"Is it really any of our business, though? I mean-"

"Percy," Faye interrupted, "They expect us to separate back to two separate friend groups like we never merged - this is absolutely our business."

Percy nodded with a dramatic sigh, "Okay, what's the plan?"

***

"Y/N," Penelope said as she sat down next to you, prolonging the last vowel in your name.

"Yes?" you said absently, not even looking up from your book.

"Will you come to Hogsmeade with us this weekend?"

"Depends who's attending."

"Me, Faye, Jid and Percy."

You finally looked up from the inked pages, casting a sceptical raised eyebrow in Penelope's direction. "And Wood isn't going?"

"No, it's your turn with us, or whatever," she rolled her eyes, "Oliver is busy with quidditch, as per usual."

You hummed, "Okay, I'll come."

"You have to talk to him again eventually, you know."

"Says who?"

"Says your children who are sick of split custody."

"You aren't our children."

Penelope rolled her eyes again, "We might as well be. Point is, it's traumatising for us to not have parents who are civil with each other."

"Then why don't you tell Wood to stop acting like everything was my fault."

"It's traumatising for us to be your messengers, too."

"Fuck off, Penny," you grumbled, sinking into the armchair and delving back into your book.

***

"I thought he wasn't supposed to be coming," you snapped, staring at Oliver Wood through the window of the Three Broomsticks.