Oliver Wood Imagines

More Than Straws

Puddlemere United.

No doubt, this was Oliver's dream. After graduating Hogwarts, he was offered a position as a reserve for his favorite team.

Eventually, Oliver's first game came about. Though he did nothing more than watch from the reserves' bench, you knew he would be ready to jump onto his broom.

His position on the team brought forth interesting situations for you, like being invited to the Puddlemere United wives brunches. You remained mostly ignored by the main roster wives. It truly wasn't of any worth to go, so you stopped attending after your third lunch.

Then it happened.

During a game when the team's keeper was hit by a rogue bludger, Oliver was put in the game. He blocked multiple shots on the goal, many of which the original keeper likely would have missed. The crowd got their first taste of Wood's talent, and the loved it. By the end of the game he was a minor celebrity and brought you along with him into his newfound yet truly deserved fame.

That weekend one of the women begged for you to attend the brunch. You complied.

-Time skip to the brunch-
The women chattered around you but
you simply stared off into the distance. Right before you left your flat Oliver had gotten word something went horribly wrong at the Triwizard Tournament. The vague details were trickling in slowly. Somehow, he managed to get you to keep up your promise of attending the brunch by promising to let you know if something really big happened. So obviously your body was here, but your mind was at Hogwarts.

You feel a tap on your shoulder, shaking you out if your thoughts.
"So Y/N, how did you meet Oliver?" One of the women asks.

"Hogwarts," you reply, thinking back to the time he finally had the courage ask you out in your fourth year. An uneasy knot sat in your stomach reminding you of whatever was happening there right now.

The women looked shocked.
"Really? That long? Well, you really picked the right straw there," another woman mentions.

Straw? What?

"What do you mean?" You question chuckling a bit to hide your confusion.

"No, I just assumed you met after he started professional Quidditch. They make quite a sum of money, even as reserve players," she smiled sweetly, concealing her seemingly rude attitude.

A rage boiled inside of you. Were they assuming you only married Oliver for the money?

The day he proposed was the happiest day of your life. Never did you expect to be lucky enough to end up with someone so dedicated, determined, kind and thoughtful as Oliver was. You were lucky to have him, but not in the way these shallow women thought.

Despite your disapproval, you continue your positive attitude charade.

"We fell in love on the Quidditch pitch. He needed someone to practice with before sunrise. He was lucky I had a crush on him, I followed him out there with him every morning for two years before he asked me out. We dated for the next three years. When we went out for dinner celebrating Oliver's Puddlemere United offer he popped the question, and of course, you said yes."

"Big ceremony?" Seemed to be the next question sounding in multiple forms.

"We had a small ceremony a few months later. Just about 30 people in total, many from Hogwarts Quidditch." you remarked, wondering if any of those people were back at school right now, "it was simple, simple and perfect."

The women give you their complete attention, the polar opposite of what they have ever given you in the past. They are truly confused.

"So... you're technically saying you did chase after him since you followed him to the Quidditch pitch," a third woman remarks.

You shrug, "I guess, but it wasn't because of Quidditch. Oliver is a truly exceptional man. His personality alone is enough for me."

One woman scoffs and you turn to her waiting for an explanation.
"You're saying you'd marry him even if he was a muggle-born?"

Great now we're biased against muggles. You angrily mutter to yourself.

You cannot handle any more of this absolute rubbish. You let these strangers in on your most fond and personal memories and they treated them as cheap scams for money.

"I'm saying I'd marry him if he were a muggle, Athena."

That is all it takes to quiet the entire room.

"I'm sorry, I have to go, enjoy the rest of your day," you address the group as you quickly exit the room. Your presence at the brunch was no longer beneficial to anyone.

*Time Skip*
You open the door to find Oliver, head in hands on the sofa.

"You're home early..." he says with a defeated and depressed tone.

You drop your bag and crouch in front of him, holding his neck.
"Wasn't interesting, what's going on Ollie?"

He averts your gaze. From your knowledge of Oliver, this tells you something is horribly wrong.

"Cedric Diggory is dead," his voice no louder than a whisper.

You stumble back onto the floor in shock.

"Ced? What happened? I-I know h-he was in the tournament."

Oliver shakes his head, trying to rid his eyes of tears. "I don't really know, all I've gotten is that Cedric and Potter showed up together after a challenge, Cedric was dead, Potter wasn't."

Cedric and Oliver may have been opposing House Quidditch Captains, but it was hard to dislike Cedric, he was just too much of a Hufflepuff.

"We're gonna get through this," you sigh, combing a hand through his hair in a comforting manner.

You were going to focus on your real friends now.