Oliver wood imagine's

Too Much Harry Part 2

You knew it was coming the moment Harry started smirking.
Not smiling.
Smirking.

It was after practice, the sky turning gold, brooms tucked under arms while everyone trudged back toward the castle. Oliver was hovering next to you, walking close enough that your shoulders brushed now and then. Not clingy — just quietly there.

Harry trotted up beside you both, trying and failing to hide the mischief in his eyes.

"So..." Harry began casually, like he wasn't planning to cause absolute chaos. "Oliver, are you feeling better today?"

Oliver frowned. "Better? Why wouldn't I be?"

Harry shrugged dramatically.
"I dunno. Yesterday you seemed a bit... what's the word..."
He tapped his chin.
"Oh! Jealous."

Oliver stopped walking so fast he nearly tripped.
"I— WHAT?"

Harry grinned, delighted.
"You know. Because Y/N helped me with training. And because I talk to her a lot. And because she's really nice and she listens when I—"

"HARRY."
Oliver's voice cracked like a breaking broomstick.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing.

Harry continued, absolutely merciless.
"You kept glaring at me like I stole something. I thought maybe you were mad I was improving faster than—"

"Potter," Oliver said sharply, color rising up his neck. "I wasn't glaring. And I certainly wasn't—"
He lowered his voice to a hiss.
"—jealous."

"You sure?" Harry asked innocently. "Because you told me to 'go to bed immediately' at four in the afternoon."

"That was— that was for training discipline!"

"I didn't know discipline meant 'stop talking to Y/N.'"

You lost it. A laugh escaped you.

Oliver turned to you, betrayed.
"You're encouraging him."

Harry puffed his chest proudly. "You are jealous."

Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated beyond belief.
"Potter. I am your captain. I do not get jealous. I get— focused."

Harry raised a brow. "Focused on Y/N."

Oliver opened his mouth, closed it, looked at you like please save me, and then muttered:
"She's my girlfriend. I'm allowed to focus on her."

Harry's grin grew even brighter. "So you admit it!"

"I admit NOTHING!"

"Oh, come on," Harry said. "You basically chased me off the pitch yesterday."

"I did not chase— I redirected— you should've been in bed— I don't know why I'm explaining myself to a twelve-year-old!"

Harry beamed at you.
"I like winding him up."

"I can tell," you said.

Oliver groaned. "This is my nightmare."

Harry shrugged. "Well, you're fun to tease now. Before you just yelled at us about Quidditch. This is way better."

Oliver stared at the sky as if praying for strength.
"I miss when he feared me."

"He never feared you," you said gently.

"He should have," Oliver grumbled.

Harry grinned, skipping ahead.
"Don't worry, Captain! I'll try not to steal your girlfriend again tomorrow!"

"POTTER!"

Harry ran.

Oliver dragged a hand down his face, mumbling,
"I'm going to lose my mind."

You leaned into him, smiling.
"You're so cute when you're jealous."

"I'm not jealous."

"Sure."

He sighed, defeated.
"...Fine. Maybe a little."

And from up ahead, Harry yelled:
"I HEARD THAT!"

Oliver groaned so loudly the birds scattered.