Harry Potter Characters Oneshots

Oliver Wood × Reader

A/N Sorry, sorry. I'm gonna have to make you Slytherin...

Gryffindor verses Slytherin. Tied, 20-20. Seekers Harry and Draco are above, looking for the Snitch. Oliver watches the goals, making sure nothing gets past.

But this year, it's kinda hard to do with a (pretty/handsome) Chaser Slytherin flying around like they own the feild.

You are a skilled Slytherin Chaser. Your father plays the game for a living, and your mother was a champion at the sport when she went to the same school you're at now. You grew up on a Pitch, the latest broomstick in hand. You learned how to fly at age two, could block a Quaffle like the pros. Slytherin is lucky to have you.

You fly across the feild, moving in quick motions and steal the ball while it's passing between two Gryffindors. You make your way straight to Wood - the Gryffindor Keeper. He just stares at you, suprised you're going straight for him.

Before you run into him, you throw the ball through the 30 feet goal, and Slytherin goes wild. You raise your arms in victory, making your way back to starting position.

Oliver runs everything in his mind. He froze when you went after him. He knew he'd get yelled at by his team - but he couldn't help it! He's scarred to admit it - you're to good.

The game starts again, and the Slytherin Beaters hit the Bludger straight toward the Gryffindor Chaser who held the Quaffle. The Gryffindor scoots out of they way, but drops the Quaffle. You catch it, zooming toward Oliver again. You plan to do the same thing again, but toss the ball into the goal he's covering.

Again, he freezes up when you come close and you throw the ball straight above his head. Slylerin yelps, cheering. You nod your head, pleasure growing in your chest.

Oliver looks down. He needs to get his grip together, but he can't help it. The play starts, and he plays ruff. No way are you getting a point this time.

Malfoy takes off, and Harry does too. Harry gets before him, and starts reaching out. You groan, barely paying attention to the Quaffle now.

Harry stretches his arm out, but Malfoy pushes him. Harry jumps back, stealing the Snitch right before Draco's hand closes.

Gryffindor woops and cat-calls, chanting - "Harry! Harry! Harry!"

You sink to the ground, along with everyone else. You follow the Slytherin coach as he goes to shake hands with Oliver. Once they do, Wood's eyes go to you and he blushes.

"Good game," you call. "Nice Seeker you got there," you put your arm out, willing to shake.

Wood smiles. "I must admit you the best Chaser I've ever heard or seen fly on this feild," he shakes you hand.

You two stand still for a few seconds, till your friend from Slytherin puts (his/her) arm around you. (He/She) snarls at Wood, pulling you away. Waving, you head back with the losing team.

●●●

Oliver sits silently at the Gryffindor table. His eyes flash to the door of the Great Hall every few seconds. He rotates his Split-Pea Soup around on the table, not willing to eat. Even if it does taste good.

Yesterday was Slytherin verses Ravenclaw, and though he doesn't like games to be played will he isn't on the feild, he watched just because you were playing. He rarely sees games from the stands, but you seem even better at the game from here. You'd zoom around faster than he thought you did. The way you distract the Keeper so you can throw the Quaffle in is brilliant.

His eyes followed your every move, till you were hit dead-on by a Bludger. He hadn't  processed what happened till you were already off the feild, being carried by the Game Keeper to the Hospital Wing.

He left the game, following Hagrid from behide. Beside the big fellow was your friend, talking quickly about how rare it is for a Bludger to hit you. He actually listened as your friend chatted about you, interested.

Now you've been in the Hospital Wing for a full day - he visited you after you woke up an hour after the incident, and in the morning - but he hoped you walk through the door to show you were still alive and healthy.

Sadly, the dessert showed up and he didn't eat anything of the original meal, so he ate a donut and stole a plate of (favorite favor) cake.

He hid the small plate in his robes as he made his way up to the Hospital Wing, wanting you to eat something tasty. He made his way to your bed. You lay, reading a book. You smile as he walks over. You two became friends over his visits.

"Hey there, Woody." You say, slowly leaning up.

"Hey (F/N). I didn't see you at dinner, so I brought you something." He pulled out the cake, placing it on the nightstand by your bed.

You smile, taking the plate and using the fork he brought to take a bite. "My favorite. Thanks, Woody."

He sits down beside you, twirling his fingers. "Sooo, are you feeling any better?"

You shake you head, moving you hand in a "okay" gesture. You honestly felt horrible, but you didn't want to make him frown.

He nods, whistling and shaking his head as if there was a song playing. You sigh, look up at the ceiling. That's what you've been doing for the past day. Just staring up.

You turn your head, seeing Oliver looking at you. You give his cheek a quick peck, hugging him. "Thank you for visiting me. You're the only one who has."

He rubs your back. "You're welcome."

A/N The last part could be better but I'm not gonna fix it. This is longer too! I'm on a roll! (And I probably just jinxed it).