Harry Potter One Shots (Vol. I)

Quidditch Plays And Confessions (Oliver Wood)

I loved quidditch and I could admit that. I loved the rush of flying through the wind, the adrenaline that pumped through my veins when I threw the quaffle over the outstretched hands of the keeper and through the hoop was addictive. More than anything I loved the buzz that followed Ravenclaw house for the next few days after we won a match and the knowledge that I had helped bring so much happiness to so many people.

But what I didn't love was the training times. Now, if you asked Roger then he would say that we had the best possible times to be training. He was a firm believer that the earlier the practice was the better. And so when the quidditch captains from each house had gathered to wager for the times they wanted, he had gotten the earliest times possible. Meaning that he had to butt horns with Wood.

But he somehow, to the dismay of the rest of the team, had won.

That was the reason that we were trudging to the quidditch pitch before the sun had even risen. Roger has struck a deal with the house elves to arrange some breakfast for us. But even the prospect of food wasn't enough to force some of the heavier sleepers out of bed. I had learnt quickly that bending to Roger's will was better than having to sit through his incessant nagging if you did otherwise.

"Oi!" Someone shouted and I furrowed my eyes; what normal person was awake so early in the morning? "Benson!" And why were they calling my name?

Then again, I thought, picking up on the brogue that tinted the two words, it's not as if the person was a normal person. I took a quick glance to Roger, who had stopped at the call of my name. He didn't look as if he knew who the person was from the sound of their voice. But how could he not put the Scottish accent to the reaction that it had blatantly caused in the way that I was walking.

I cleared my throat, realising that everyone had stopped around us. My teammates turned to look back at Wood who, from their expressions, was not a welcome sight in their half sleep filled stated.

"What the hell do you want?" They snarled as Wood walked towards us. Once he was a metre or so away from the team, he stopped and raised an eyebrow at the boys that were now standing protectively in front of me. The boys on the team had a ridiculous theory that Wood would somehow find out about my feelings about him and, as a result, would get all of the team secrets out of me.

I sighed, pushing the boys out of the way so that I could face him when I talked to him. "Look Wood, if this is about the training times then I'm the wrong person to talk to; Roger is captain. Besides," I said, giving an irritated look to Roger when I noticed the death glare he aimed at the other captain. "We won the training times fair and square."

"Are you done?" He asked patiently, catching me off guard. I nodded. "I didn't want to talk to you about the training times, lass."

"Well what did you want to talk about Wood?" Roger demanded, "We're late for the first practice of the year because of you - which was no doubt your intention."

"Look, Benson," Wood said looking back at me and pointedly ignoring Roger. "Can I talk to you? In private?"

Before his words could make the rest of the team react, I turned to Roger, "Take the others to the pitch. I'll be there in a minute."

Roger nodded but kept his eyes on wood, "Fine, but don't even think about missing practice."

"I wouldn't think about leaving you without your best chaser."

Roger looked at me then and narrowed his eyes at me, "But I'm going to be there."

"Oh please, we both know that I'm the better chaser," I muttered and looked back at Wood who was standing patiently, watching our exchange. "Don't worry about me; I can handle him."