"YOU NEVER KNOW JUST HOW TO LOOK
THROUGH OTHER PEOPLE'S EYES"
-Pepper, Butthole Surfers
LENNOX MAY HAVE BEEN A PUDDLEMERE COACH FOR CLOSE TO A DECADE, with many accolades under his belt and a stellar reputation to boot - granted he had never managed to bring Puddlemere to the European Cup under his reign irregardless, but in Oliver's humble opinion the ageing man was spiralling.
Puddlemere's less than satisfactory performance prior to Robert catching the snitch had spurred him into ramping up their training regime more than ever before. Puddlemere often trained from eight in the morning until midday on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, and then trained on Tuesday and Thursday evenings to account for all lighting conditions. But now, the team were spending an extra hour or more at training and working twice as hard. Their muscles ached, tensions were running high and Padraig and Adore were at each other's throats at the best of times. It wouldn't be long before they'd be tossing bludgers each other's ways instead of toward the opposite team.
Oliver was forced to ignore the agony that was shooting through his hip from the bump against the hoop he took trying to save the quaffle from Teppig's practice throw, hissing lowly to himself in pain as he tossed it back to the chasers. The rest of the team were having an even tougher time, as Lennox had charmed the weather directly above the stadium into a total thunderstorm in the hopes it would heighten the training experience.
A sudden bolt of lightening snapped straight down the middle of the field, eliciting a small scream of surprise from the entire team.
"You almost dropped the quaffle that time, Egwu!" Lennox roared upward towards the chaser, tone filled with disappointment.
Adore, who had been in closest proximity to Oliver at the time, looked back toward him with an incredulous glance. For the moment their eyes met, they shared the same thought - this was taking things too far. Shaking his head with disapproval, Adore nodded at the keeper to show she agreed with him. As lowly as she possibly could speak through the storm to avoid anyone overbearing, the redhead said something to Teppig. Oliver hoped it was a plea to their captain to intervene in the madness.
His suspicions seemed to prove correct when the captain spun in a downward direction on his broom until he met the coach, immediately beginning to exchange words that Oliver could tell was growing into a heated conversation even from as far up as he was. Once Teppig began to gesture wildly towards the players still in the air, the keeper took it upon himself to sail downward in the hopes of being able to help.
"-you're gonna end up killing us! That lightening bolt was so close to Wendy it nearly bleached her damn hair!" Were the first words he heard once Oliver came into hearing range of the two, immediately hopping off his broom once he was close enough to the ground and rushing toward them.
"It's this lack of dedication that nearly cost us the match last time, if you don't like it you know where the door is!" Lennox roared back, the veins in his neck becoming increasingly prominent the more he shouted.
"Woah, woah!" Oliver interrupted, his hands in the air as he tried to diffuse the situation. "I think what Teppig's trying to say is that he's concerned for the welfare of our players. Surely if the conditions were this bad in a match it'd have been called off by now, you hardly want one of us to end up out of action for the next game?"
"I've got reserves," Lennox replied stonily, stepping up to Oliver as if daring him to argue. "And our reserve keeper isn't half bad either, Wood. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to play in these conditions for the chance to play at all."
Oliver ran his tongue over his teeth, struggling to keep the words threatening to bubble out of his lips inside. He may not have been captain of Puddlemere as he had been Gryffindor, but he couldn't help himself from naturally feeling drawn towards that leadership role. A role that involved feeling particularly protective over the well being of the other players. He found himself longing for the freedom of Hogwarts Quidditch at that moment - where there were no coaches or managers, just the captain and his team.
"You might have been some big shot in school, boy," Lennox continued once he noticed Oliver visibly stiffen up with frustration, "but you're not the captain and this isn't Hogwarts. If you can't handle a bit of bad weather, then maybe you should consider if Quidditch is really for you."
The keeper scoffed with amusement at that. Quidditch not being for him? The sport was like breathing to Oliver. His mother always used to say he flew before he could walk.
The numerous snarky retorts that were brewing in his mind in response to that were suddenly cut off by another flash, a sudden bolt of light splitting through the skies above the pitch. Except instead of the following sound of thunder, they heard a scream of terror.
With their heads snapping up in shock, Oliver's heart dropped into his stomach once he saw that the bolt had clearly sparked too close to Adore this time, as the beater had been knocked off balance and was now holding onto her broom with both hands. Her feet dangled in the free air beneath her, and although he wasn't that close he could still see the pained expression on her face as she attempted to pull herself back up.
At the sight of one of her hands slipping from her broom with the wetness of the rain working against her grip, Oliver made a move to sprint in her direction, tightening his hold on his broom as he prepared to mount it as soon as possible and help her.
"Don't," Lennox stopped him with a firm tone and a firm grip with his hand encircling Oliver's bicep. The keeper looked back toward his manager with a look of abject horror, his body screaming at him to fight against the hold and go and save her before she plummeted to the ground. "If my own beater doesn't have enough upper body strength to pull herself back onto a broom, how is she a beater in the first place?"
Oliver scoffed and ripped his arm from the older man's clutches, but the second he turned back to look up at Adore he exhaled heavily with relief once he saw that she had indeed managed to pull herself upward and was now settling back into a seating position.
He stayed standing there for a moment, watching her even after she was safely balanced again as if she would suddenly blow overboard again. Once he made absolute sure nothing was going to happen her, Oliver whipped back around to the grey-haired culprit.
"Call off the storm now," he threatened, his tone entirely forceful but self-assured. "Or else I'll take my team and we'll all leave."
"And I can back that," Teppig added, stepping closer to Oliver to demonstrate his siding with him.
Much to their surprise, Lennox gave one quick but forced nod, agreeing to call off the weather conditions as he tugged his wand out of his hip-holder to recant his charm. Later that day, the whole team would come to thank Oliver for his intervention. But no one was more satisfied with what happened that the man himself, who felt he saw a glimmer of the boy he used to be that he hadn't seen in quite a while.
☽ ☾
"Finally!" Adore winced at the sound of Allison's voice the second she reappeared in their apartment, as she had hoped the auror would be off doing some outlandish quest for the Ministry. Her hair was still damp from the rain during training and her entire body ached from the effort she had exerted - this was not a conversation she was looking forward to. "You've been avoiding me."
Allison didn't pose her statement as a question, and she didn't need to. It was obvious to both women that Adore had been avoiding her best friend since the disastrous double date they 'enjoyed' the evening before. Adore was prepared to reassure her that she wasn't truly mad that her blind date didn't go as planned and that she didn't blame Allison for it, but the blonde had already sussed out the true reason for Adore's avoidance.
"Is this because I seen you jet off with Oliver Wood?" Allison emphasised his name with a knowing tone. The Pucey girl was cursed with an expression that made her constantly look annoyed, and only Adore seemed to be able to tell when she was actually peeved. Which was right now.
"What?" Adore nervously laughed, avoiding her piercing gaze as she dropped her keys into their bowl aside the front door and fluttered about with some letters an owl had left on their windowsill. "Not at all! Why would you think such a thing?"
"You literally apparated from the toilet back to your bedroom this morning so you wouldn't run into me in the hallway, don't bullshit me Kingsley."
What could she argue to that, really? Adore's shoulders slumped with defeat as she flopped down to sit next to her flat mate on their couch, sighing with how quickly the fellow Slytherin could see through her.
"I didn't forget what happened in sixth year," Allison commented, the memories running like a reel through her mind as her lips visibly puckered with distaste. "He's lucky I didn't sock him right in the balls last night, has he apologised to you since joining Puddlemere? I'm assuming he has or else you wouldn't give him the time of day."
Adore was pointedly silent, her mouth opening and closing like a fish as she knew there was no point in lying. Allison would figure out the truth regardless.
"You're joking, Adore! You're hardly giving him the time of day after him not apologising!"
"He doesn't seem to remember what went down," Adore confessed, looking down with embarrassment as she picked at her fingernails awkwardly. "Which isn't surprising, I mean he was so drunk I'd be surprised if he even remembered what he said the next day never mind something remembering what he said in bloody 1993."
"That's no excuse!" Allison insisted, although her tone was more gentle than before once she picked up on Adore's demeanour. "Adore, I've only ever seen you cry twice in all the time I've known you. The first time was that night, and the second time was after that date with the journalist."
"Well I had other stuff going on both times!" Adore huffed with annoyance, she hated feeling talked down to. "And besides, I gave him hell for weeks after he started. But contrary to popular belief, it's not actually easy for me to be a bitch to someone. Especially someone that doesn't do anything in return and still stays as nice to me as he can be."
"Alright, but for the love of Salazar don't go fancying him or anything," Allison conceded with a heavy sigh, reaching for the freshly opened bottle of wine she had left sitting on their coffee table and dangling it in her friend's direction with a playful smirk. "I figured wine would take the edge off this conversation."
"Yes please," Adore beamed brilliantly, taking the bottle from her clutches and lifting it to her lips to take a short swig before handing it back with a pensive look cast upon her face. "I wouldn't fancy him anyway. We're complete opposites, and he's got a girlfriend."
Allison nodded in acceptance before she suddenly let out a chuckle, "he's fit though."
"Oh, so fucking fit."