Dear Diary (Harry Potter x reader)

Year 3 Chapter 17: Sable vs Ron, Who Will Win? (Sable)

September had flown by for Y/n, between sleepovers in Maia, Fawn and Sables dorms, studying for her numerous classes and spending the rest of her free time with Harry, Ron and Hermione, the remainder of the month went by awfully fast, she had almost forgotten the fact she was now on a team she hadn't even wanted to be a part of in the first place. Key word, almost.

At the start of October, Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor team, called a meeting one Thursday evening to discuss tactics for the new season. There were seven people on a Quidditch team: three Chasers, whose job it was to score goals by putting the Quaffle (a red, soccer sized ball) through one of the fifty-foot-high hoops at each end of the field; two Beaters, who were equipped with heavy bats to repel the Bludgers (two heavy black balls that zoomed around trying to attack the players); a Keeper, who defended the goal posts, and the Seeker, who had the hardest job of all, that of catching the Golden Snitch, a tiny, winged, walnut-sized ball, whose capture ended the game and earned the Seeker's team an extra one hundred and fifty points. Oliver Wood was a burly seventeen-year-old, now in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts. There was a quiet sort of desperation in his voice as he addressed his six fellow team members in the chilly locker rooms on the edge of the darkening Quidditch field.

"This is our last chance—my last chance—to win the Quidditch Cup," he told them, striding up and down in front of them. "I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at it. "Gryffindor hasn't won for seven years now. Okay, so we've had the worst luck in the world—injuries—then the tournament getting called off last year..." Wood swallowed, as though the memory still brought a lump to his throat.

"But we also know we've got the best— ruddy—team—in—the—school," he said, punching a fist into his other hand, the old manic glint back in his eye. "We've got three superb Chasers." Wood pointed at Y/n, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell. "We've got two unbeatable Beaters."

"Stop it, Oliver, you're embarrassing us," said Fred and George Weasley together, pretending to blush. "And we've got a Seeker who has never failed to win us a match!" Wood rumbled, glaring at Harry with a kind of furious pride.

"And me," he added as an afterthought.

"We think you're very good too, Oliver," said George.

"Spanking good Keeper," said Fred.

"The point is," Wood went on, resuming his pacing, "the Quidditch Cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing..." Wood spoke so dejectedly that even Fred and George looked sympathetic.

"Oliver, this year's our year," said Fred.

"We'll do it, Oliver!" said Angelina.

"Definitely," said Harry.