Off the Pitch

Chapter 6: The Fall

"Alright, team", Wood said as we walked out of the changing room and to the pitch. "Last practise before the first game of the season!" 

It was a cold Thursday evening in the middle of October. Everyone was quivering in the autumnal breeze, and nothing seemed to go to plan. It was hard to control our brooms in the wind and it was already getting dark. We kept dropping the Quaffle because it was too hard to see, which frustrated Wood, who ended the practise after half an hour. 

"Well", Wood said crestfallen in the changing room. "Um – see you on Sunday. Try to get some rest, all of you." 

No one said a word as we walked out of the door, feeling down and defeated. I noticed that Wood sat down onto the bench, leaned his elbows to his knees and pressed his face into his palms. 

"I'm right behind you", I mumbled to the twins and stepped back into the changing room, closing the door behind me. I sat next to Wood and put my hand on his shoulder. 

"Oliver?" I said carefully. 

"Hm?" he muttered quietly into his hands. 

"It was just one practise, okay?" I tried to comfort him. "It doesn't change anything." 

He lifted his head up and leaned it back to the wall behind him, closing his eyes and letting out a long sigh. 

"I know", he mumbled. "I know."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, before he opened his mouth again. 

"It's just..." he started. "I really, really want to win the Quidditch Cup this year. It's my last chance." 

I gave him a shy smile. "We've got this, Oliver. I promise." 

He turned his head to look at me and smiled. We held eye contact for a few slow seconds. 

"Let's get going", he slammed his hands onto his knees and helped himself up. 

I stood up and followed him to the door. He stopped before stepping outside. 

He looked down at me and smiled gently. "Thanks." 

It rained for the remaining of the week. On Sunday – game day – it was pouring down more than any other day. The Gryffindor team ate breakfast in silence; everyone was too nervous to even think about Quidditch, let alone talk about it. We left the Great Hall together and headed straight to the pitch. No one said a word until we sat down in the changing room. 

Wood sighed, stood up and started talking: "There has been a change of plans for today's match." 

Curious looks were exchanged between the players. 

"Due to an... incident...", Wood paused for a second, "we'll be up against Hufflepuff instead of Slytherin." 

The changing room was filled with shocked gasps and enraged murmur. 

"However –" Wood tried to speak over the noise, but everyone was too perplexed to pay attention to him. 

"SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU!" 

Everyone immediately stopped talking and turned towards him. 

"Thank you", he said in a calmer voice. "Now – I know that this has ruined our original game plan, but I believe we still stand a chance." 

"I mean, it's Hufflepuff, so..." Fred started, but Wood stopped him with a pointed finger. 

"Ah, don't underestimate their team, Weasley", he said. "Their new Seeker, Cedric Diggory, is in fact extremely talented."