Romance and Quidditch | Oliver Wood

Chapter Two: The Third Meeting

 The Nordic Team won easily that night.

 After the game had ended, Oliver tried to make sense of what had happened. He had never met Scandinavian players as good as team the World Cup had put together that year, especially Gustav. That man was so fast and so sly that Oliver couldn't block any of his goals. And the team seemed to let Gustav be the one to make all the goals, probably because they knew what he could do. That only made things even worse for Oliver.

 The loss was a hard blow to the UK team. At first they were stunned by the loss, but the realization slowly seeped in that this Nordic Team had basically beat them senseless, in a way, and that anyone would have trouble beating them.

 "Ah, Oliver Wood! Here you are."

 Gustav sauntered into the room, already changed out of his uniform and in the clothes he had been wearing earlier.

 "You shouldn't look so glum," he said, giving Oliver a gentle pat on the shoulder. "This is one lost game. There are many terrible teams you can beat. I doubt you are really a terrible keeper."

 Gustav was apparently trying to be sincere and encouraging, but Oliver wasn't in the mood for it.

 "Thanks," he said flatly. "Congrats on the win."

 Gustav nodded. "Thank you. We will be against Bulgaria next, and they are difficult to beat. Say, I came here to ask: shall we go out somewhere else for a while? It feels much too professional being trapped in here, does it not?"

 "Um," Oliver looked at his watch, "I do have a little time. Yeah, why not? I think I'd better change out of my uniform first, though."

 Gustav smiled. "I'll be waiting outside the pitch."

 When Oliver had changed out of his uniform, he went outside to find Gustav talking with some people, probably quidditch fans who had been there to watch the game. Odd, Oliver had thought Gustav seemed rather snobbish and stuck-up, but now he seemed more kind and down-to-earth.

 When Gustav parted from the quidditch fans, Oliver asked, "Fans of yours?"

 "Quidditch enthusiasts," Gustav corrected. "You're not in England, remember. Now, come on. Let's walk a bit."

 "Where are we going?" Oliver asked. "We're kind of in the middle of nowhere out here."

 "Then we shall walk through the middle of nowhere. Oh, come on, Oliver. The snow has melted away. Well, almost all of it," he added as an afterthought. "But what does it matter? It isn't particularly cold tonight."

 "No, but you certainly need a coat, don't you?"

 "Of course you would," Gustav replied. "We're rather far up north. There are hardly any clouds tonight, however. If you look up, you can see stars."

 Oliver looked up at sky, and realized how littered with bright stars it was that night. He hadn't paid it any attention before.

 "Out of mere curiosity," Gustav began, "Do you have any siblings, Oliver?"

 "No. I'm an only child."

 "Really? No brothers or sisters at all?"

 "No," Oliver answered. "It was always just me and my parents. Why, how many have you got?"

 Gustav scoffed. "Not too many, I suppose. But oh, well. I believe that sometimes, these things tend to just happen in life. Somehow, I must have just been meant to have the family I have. Have you ever wished you had siblings?"

 "I...well-you know, I don't know. I guess maybe it would have been nice to have a brother or sister. You're not making it sound like it's a good thing, though."

 "Oh, that's only me, Oliver. I can be very grouchy when I feel like it, especially when it comes to my family."

 "I wouldn't expect you to be so grouchy," Oliver remarked, "Given that your team just won the match."

 "Well, yes, that is something. You know, I like you, Oliver. You make an interesting man, and I like that."

 "Well, I...I doubt I'm very interesting," Oliver said, feeling awkward at the other man's words.

 "Nonsense. I like you. Here." Gustav handed him a slip of paper. "This is my current address. It seems I've become...what's the word...roommates with my brother."

 "And...is that a good thing?" Oliver asked.

 Gustav shrugged. "Depends on what moods we're both in. But anyway, I suppose we should both be going, shouldn't we? It's getting late. You know, I hope I'll see you again soon, Oliver. Do write to me with your address in case I ever want to write to you."

 "Well, maybe we'll see each other again in the 2018 World Cup," Oliver pointed out.

 Gustav smiled. "I hope so."

 They parted as they back into the stadium, each one having to prepare to go off to their next game.