✓ | SNITCH ʰᵃʳʳʸ ᵖᵒᵗᵗᵉʳ ⁱᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉˢ

oliver wood

Y/N helps Oliver with his quidditch plays
oliver x fem!reader, no warnings

I groggily walked down the stirs into the common room, the cold stone flooring against my feet causing shivers to rush up my spine and goosebumps to appear across my arms. I drug my small bag overflowing with parchments and textbooks at my feet, the ink at the bottom of the pack probably spilled open by now. Stopping at one of the few tables scattered across the room, I noticed a boy hunched over multiple pieces of crumpled parchment and a quill with barely any ink left in the bottle. The boy continued to add marks, scribble them out, and repeat the pattern until he had to start over once again on a separate sheet, his ink stained hands marking the once pristine paper. Involuntarily, I walked to the back of the couch and glanced over his shoulder to see that he was making quidditch plays for the upcoming match against Hufflepuff. Only then did I notice that it was Oliver creating all the trash dispersed around his feet.  

"What is that?" I asked, although I already knew exactly what he was doing. The sudden sound of my voice startled the captain as his bones jumped from his skin and the almost empty bottle of ink was tipped over and emptied.

"It's plays for the Ravenclaw match for tomorrow," he said, his breathing returning to normal and his hands moving to wipe up the ink with his shirt, ruining the grey fabric.

"Here use mine," I said, rummaging through my bag to find the ink bottle leaning over at the bottom and handing it to him. "I thought you were playing Hufflepuff?"

"Thanks, we were but McGonagall wants to make my life difficult and let me know the night before that she's switched the matches and now I have to fix all of the plays to make them work against Ravenclaw's strategies," Oliver rambled, pulling out another sheet and drawing the pitch on it.

"Would you like some help?" I asked moving from behind the couch to sit next to him.

"What would you know about quidditch? You never come to any of the matches," Oliver said, I tried not to think about the fact that he looked for me in the crowd, or so I hoped.

"My brother's the Keeper for the Kestrals, I know a thing or two," I chuckled, moving the paper closer to me and making a few marks of my own.

"Your brother is Darren O'Hare!" he shouted, practically jumping for joy where he sat.

"Well my last name is O'Hare," I apathetically stated.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean that your brother is a pro-quidditch player!" Oliver squealed.

"Keep your voice down, some people are trying to sleep, you moron," I said and pulled him over by the arm to look at the paper.

"I never thought of doing that," he said, mesmerized by the sheet of parchment between his fingers. "Are you sure it will work?"

"About ninety-nine percent," I said, walking back to the table with my stuff and pulling the bag over my shoulder.

"Where are you going?" Oliver asked, still seated with the paper in his hands.

"I'll see you at the match tomorrow, Wood. Hope you use my play," I winked at him before heading back up to the girls dorms. As soon as I reached my bed, I was out like a light until the sun rose.

The feeling of warmth shining across my face slowly pulled me back to consciousness, although the warm silk sheets encasing me told me to sleep longer. I pulled myself out of the warm bed, remembering the quidditch match and sleep deprived boy from last night. Pulling off the shorts I had slept in and the tshirt with the words 'DRAGONS ARE REAL' off, I slipped on a maroon sweatshirt and jeans, wrapped my scarf tightly around my neck and headed towards the pitch.

Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were neck and neck during the entirety of the match but I did notice that Oliver had decided to use my plays and many similar to it. It was fifty-sixty Ravenclaw and both the seekers were completely lost until Harry noticed a golden sparkle skimming past him. After a few minutes of aimlessly chasing after him, he finally caught the snitch and Gryffindor had won.

I tried to sneak out of the pitch without being noticed, I don't even know why but I just felt the need to leave before anyone could stop and ask why I came to this of all quidditch matches. To be honest, I didn't really like quidditch, mainly because I was complete rubbish at it, so I don't know why I helped Oli last night or why I even came to this game. A warm hand grasping my bicep twisted me around into a hard body covered in pads, Oliver Wood.

"Don't think you're getting away that easily, love, you're the reason we won today," Oliver grinned at me.

"Hi, Oliver," I sighed.

"You should play, honestly, you seem like you just need a little bit of direction and you could be one of the best players on the team," he said, letting go of my arm as a blush dusted his cheeks.

"Yeah, that'd be great," I smiled at him hesitantly.

"Cool, I'll see you on the pitch tomorrow at eight!"

"Eight?"