Chapter Text
A/N I'm revisiting Quidditch and splitting the chapter up so each are more manageable and readable. Probably twice as many chapters and the finale against Slytherin. Plus I've finally decided on how it ends, apologies that it has taken so long to get back around to, my Star Wars and other HP fics have given me some enthusiasm again. A few additional scenes have been added in so the ending makes sense because I wrote that first and then realised what was missing.
Here's hoping the wait was worth it.
FR
Chapter One
The Promise, The Kiss and The Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff Grudge Match
Oliver Wood had been awake since five. He didn't set an alarm on match days. Hadn't since third year. His body just knew.
He dressed in the dark, pulled on a jumper and his old training trousers, and slipped out of the dormitory without waking anyone. Percy Weasley muttered something about cauldron thickness in his sleep but didn't stir.
The castle was quiet at this hour. Filch was somewhere on the third floor, Oliver could hear Mrs Norris's claws ticking on stone two corridors away, but the caretaker had stopped challenging him on match mornings years ago. They had an understanding. Oliver didn't track mud through the entrance hall, and Filch decided that he wasn't worth the effort to chase away.
The pitch was barely visible in the pre-dawn murk. Rain had been falling since midnight. The wind came from the north-west. It would be in his face in the first half if Hooch set them up the usual way. Oliver walked the length of the field, feeling the ground give under his boots. The grass would be slick and the quaffle would be like a bar of soap.
He stopped at the centre circle and looked up at the hoops.
His hoops.
Three tall shadows against a grey sky. He'd defended them for six years and this was the start of his last.
Three matches. That was all he had left.
"Make them count, Wood."
He checked the wind one more time, pulled his jacket tighter, and walked back toward the castle. Breakfast wouldn't start for another hour, but the kitchens would be open. Punky always had porridge ready early for him on match days.
A door opened and light spilled across the path, Filch stepped out and took a breath, a steaming cup in his hand.
Oliver nodded as he passed. Filch smirked but didn't speak. There wasn't anything to say at five in the morning that the match wouldn't say much louder.
—Quidditch—
The twins were first. They were usually first on match days, which was ironic given they were last to everything else. Fred had his beater's bat over one shoulder like a broadsword. George munched on toast.
"Morning, capt'n." Fred dropped onto the bench and inspected his bat grip. "Lovely weather for it."
"Gorgeous," Oliver agreed. "Don't get crumbs on your equipment, George. You represent Gryffindor today."
"It's Fred."
"No, it isn't."
George grinned and kept eating.
Alicia arrived next, already in her armour but with her robes over her shoulder, hair pulled back tight. She sat in the corner and began to stretch her hamstrings with only a nod in recognition to Oliver.
Alicia didn't talk before matches anymore. She hadn't since her third year, when she'd been sick on Katie's boots after nattering nonstop for twenty minutes. Katie had forgiven her after several cleaning charms.
Alicia's pre-match nerves had not.
Angelina came in with her game face on, jaw set and eyes squinted slightly. Her braids were pinned flat against her skull so the wind couldn't catch them. She sat beside Alicia and the two of them exchanged a look that contained an entire conversation.
Katie was last. She shoved the door open with her hip, hair half-up and half-escaped, she looked flustered but that was pretty common for her. She was a different beast on her broom, quaffle in hand.
"I'm here, I'm here, don't start without me."
Oliver smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it."
She dropped onto the bench next to Harry, bumped his shoulder with hers, and glanced at the high window where rain was streaming down the glass and huffed out a sigh. "Lovely."
Harry had been present when Oliver had arrived. He had been sitting very still, and had barely moved since. He stared at his glasses, turning them slowly between his fingers. His Nimbus broomstick hovered just in front of him, and rotated slowly.
Oliver looked at his team. Six people. Six friends. Six Gryffindors. Six years of work. He waited until the last strap was buckled, the last glove was tugged on.
He stood. "This is it, the big one. The one we've all been waiting for."
Heads rose and they ceased all movement.
"We've done the work. You know the plan. You know the plays. Nothing out there is new to us."
He nodded towards the door.
"It's foul weather. So what. We've trained in worse. It's Hufflepuff. They'll grind. They'll wait for mistakes. They'll try to wear us down and tell themselves that's enough. They aren't the Claws with their clever tricks. They aren't the Snakes with their racing brooms and their dirty tactics, they're just steady puffs."
Angelina's mouth set into a thin line and stared at him with a penetrating gaze. Alicia rubbed her hands together once and stilled.
"They want us frustrated. They want us rushing. They want us blaming the rain, the wind, the ref, each other, and hoping we don't notice when they nick a few goals."
Wood shook his head. "We don't give them that."
He stood, his voice grew in volume and intensity.
"We play our game. Keep the passes sharp. Make calls and change plays at the right time. We trust each other, trust to your fellow chaser to be beside you, your beater to have your back, your seeker to run his interference play and know when to end it and your keeper to back you all up. You miss one, someone's there. You go down, someone covers. No sulking. No rage. No anger, we play clean and we play hard."
He looked at them one by one.
"You fly honest. You back the red robe next to you, and you let them back you."
The wind surged outside, rattling the locker room hard enough to make the walls vibrate.
"When we're done, I want the seven of us walking off that pitch knowing that we gave everything. No excuses left in the air with the rain."
He paused. "And if we do that, we win."
He drew a breath and brought his fist up then held it out and they surged to their feet.
"For Gryffindor."
Six fists met his. "For Gryffindor."
Wood turned and hauled the door open. The storm came crashing in.
Rain hit them sideways. The roar of the crowd hit them from above. Oliver stepped out onto the grass and the wind tried to shove him back through the door.
He walked. Running looked desperate. He walked like he owned the place.
This was his Quidditch pitch.
His stadium.
For one last year.
The pitch opened up before him, vast and grey and loud. The stands were a blur of colour, red and gold to the left, yellow and black to the right, green and blue filling in everywhere else. Banners snapped and twisted. Someone had enchanted a lion to prowl along the Gryffindor railing. It roared every few seconds, sparks scattered from its mane and faded in the rain.
Lee Jordan's voice cut through the noise. "-and here they are! Gryffindor! Wood leading them out, looking characteristically intense-"
Oliver lifted his broom to his shoulder, set his jaw against the weather, and walked his team to the centre circle where a drenched Madam Hooch and seven yellow-clad Hufflepuffs were already waiting.
He shook Diggory's hand. Oliver liked Cedric, honest player, decent captain, but not enough killer instinct.
Not enough to beat Oliver.
"Good luck, Wood."
"You too, Diggory. You'll need it."
Cedric smiled.
Hooch's whistle cut through the rain and fifteen brooms rose into the sky.
—Quidditch—
The wind rattled the three Quidditch goal posts in their sockets buried deep in the ground. Oliver Wood was the only one close enough to hear as he circled to maintain a central position. An involuntary shiver ran through him as he eyed the approaching Hufflepuff attack.
Today was not a day for keepers.
'The Hufflepuff against Gryffindor grudge match,' Oliver thought with a snort, 'every Hogwarts quidditch game is a grudge match.' The game had been going for just under two hours. With a score of two hundred to Gryffindor, one hundred and seventy to Hufflepuff, all was still to play for.
Oliver had exhorted his team to greater efforts during the first hour, and they responded well, scoring four unanswered goals before Hufflepuff had found some gumption. Unfortunately, Katie Bell had been caught by a bludger on her left ankle and had slowed appreciably.
Just as Oliver would have done, Hufflepuff took full advantage of the hamstrung red chaser unit, and clawed their way back into the game. Madam Hooch had called a medical timeout and ordered Katie to descend to a scowling Madam Pomfrey.
Ten minutes later, with Katie back on her broom and Pepper-up steam trailing in her wake, the game had resumed. Katie scored two quick goals and swept past the Gryffindor supporters' bleachers in an attempt to raise a cheer and chant from her housemates.
Oliver agreed. They needed the support.
He wiped a waterfall from his face with an equally wet hand, then focused back on the game. He sniffed in disgust at the fact they were not steamrolling the yellow bellied badgers and looked around for his young Seeker. He spotted him high above, circling lazily. Oliver waited for Harry's circuit to bring the Gryffindor posts into his line of vision and held his arm out to the side, touched it to his broom, then tapped his head.
Harry glanced around to check his surroundings. Even at this distance, the smirk on the little Thunderbolt's face was as clear as day. Quick as a flash, he spun on the spot and sped towards the Hufflepuff posts, rapidly becoming a red streak.
The agreed upon arm signal was part of a playbook they had drilled on endlessly in all weathers, instigated by calls, moves by opposing players, arm signals or phases of the game.
Oliver had waited until Harry had been facing him. The Badgers' chaser wedge had just passed half way in possession of the quaffle, and unseen a Gryffindor chaser loitered beneath the group. Angelina had tried this three times now and had waited for this exact situation, but other factors had prevented Oliver from calling it.
"Potter has seen the snitch!" Lee Jordan shouted excitedly from his position in the commentary box next to Professor McGonagall and Evan Jones, a fifth year and the Hufflepuff commentator.
"No, he hasn't," argued Jones. "That's a feint!"
Oliver smirked. It really didn't matter if no one believed that Potter was faking or if everyone bought it with a year's supply of Honeydukes' finest for their girlfriend. The skill and speed of the charge drove Harry through the middle of the Hufflepuff chasers and caused them to drop the quaffle.
Angelina Johnson plucked the falling ball from the air at speed and headed towards the rapidly paling Hufflepuff keeper and his right-hand hoop. Alicia swooped beneath Angelina as she dropped the quaffle into her teammates' waiting hand, and Alicia drove hard at the left-hand hoop. It would have looked to Herbert Fleet that Alicia had appeared out of nowhere. They bamboozled Oliver five times out of ten in training and he knew what they were planning. Alicia's shot ricocheted in off the metal hoop and Gryffindor cheers overtook the wind.
"Potter dives through the Hawkhead formation, spooking the Hufflepuff chasers and causing Applebee to drop the quaffle! Johnson swoops back towards the Hufflepuff end and snaffles the quaffle! Possession Gryffindor! She's dropped it herself! No! Angelina! No! What a move! Spinnet has it! Go Alicia! Spinnet scores! Two hundred and ten to one hundred and seventy! Brilliant feint by Potter who set that move up, clearly a planned move by the beautiful Gryffindor chasers! Angelina told me all about that one! She said…"
"Jordan!" Minerva McGonagall interrupted her charge. "You will not give away training secrets to the opposition in your excitement!"
Jordan blushed and dropped his head bashfully. "Right you are, professor, sorry professor."
Embarrassment was a temporary condition for Lee at the best of times and he moved on. "Potter had sold a bridge to the entire stadium with that feint there. Good lad."
"Hufflepuff have collected the quaffle and are on the move again!" Evan Jones took over the running commentary. "They've adopted the rotating line manoeuvre to keep the Gryffindors guessing. Oh, poor handling by Preece there, he dropped the quaffle as he was avoiding a bludger! Surely that's a foul, ref!"
"Jones! You are not a referee! That's not your call!" McGonagall interrupted again. "Just comment on the players, please!"
"I was, professor," Jones defended himself. "Malcolm Preece has recovered the quaffle, and the pass goes to McAvoy, but the move is a bust as the Gryffs are in a Catchpole defensive line. Tough break there, 'Puffs!"
Oliver allowed himself a smirk in celebration as the shot flew wide, having been forced out of position by an aggressive Katie Bell-Weasley bludger combination. The Catchpole Defence was a professional level tactic, but required perfect timing or the chaser would be catching the bludger instead.
The lovely Scottish weather took the opportunity to deliver a blast of ice-laden wind across the pitch, causing every player and Madam Hooch to turn their heads away.
Angelina recovered the quaffle and slowed near Oliver. "Midas?" She asked him.
"Scramble, I think, keep Midas for the 'Claws game. Fade left to right, so Harry knows," Oliver replied. They grinned at each other as Alicia and Katie joined their conference. Oliver addressed them, "Scramble, fade left to right. Mess with the quaffle enough to let Harry in front of you."
Oliver looked up for his beaters. "Weasley!" He bellowed. Every eye in the stadium turned to him, and he rubbed the back of his head vigorously with his left hand.
Three nods from his chasers were his only confirmation, and in a tight wedge to protect the quaffle they circled the posts and hustled down the pitch from the left corner on the far side of the pitch to the bleachers, aiming for the right side.
Oliver saw Harry circle around behind Diggory, who feinted unconvincingly, but stopped as he heard a gasp from the crowd. Harry had reversed course and made a run over the top of the Gryffindor chasers at breakneck speed.
"And," Jordan began, but was overridden by Evan Jones.
"Wood has called another play! Watch out, Ced! Potter's off again!"
"Scramble!" Angelina called out and slowed a hair. Katie dropped behind, Alicia sped up to sweep in front of her fellow chasers. One of the defending chasers banked to pass through the space above and behind her to cut off the pass, but Angelina swerved to evade a bludger and hurled the quaffle forward to Alicia, judged perfectly to pass just over her shoulder. The dimpled ball bounced off her broom handle, where she snagged the quaffle on the rebound.
"Fake out!" Jordan crowed. "Johnson has sold the stadium another dummy! She launches forward to Spinnet and, what's this!" He cut himself off in shock, trying to figure out how to explain the mayhem before him.
Harry picked his moment very well. Oliver slammed a fist into an open palm in delight. Diggory had followed him, impeding his own chasers. Harry wove his way through the 'Puff defence at a frightening pace, Alicia tucked right behind him, her throwing arm cocked back in preparation.
"Gryffindor scores! Potter makes himself a nuisance again and leads Spinnet well into shooting range. She lobs towards the far hoop. Fleet was unsighted as he avoided Potter's charge." Lee's voice rose above the storm, rapid and delighted.
"Timeout!" Cedric Diggory called towards Madam Hooch, and she blew her whistle.
"Five minutes!" She declared and recast another warming charm as she headed towards the commentary box to have a word with a certain commentator.
"For those who have forgotten in all the excitement, the score stands at two hundred and twenty to one hundred and seventy!" Jordan announced to hide his glee at the lecture that Jones was currently receiving from a miffed Madam Hooch.
The Gryffindor team gathered in the lee of the Gryffindor stand and high-fived each other.
"Bloody hell, I'm freezing," Katie complained. "Ollie, we'll have to let Harry search for the snitch. I'm not sure how much longer my leg will hold out."
They all looked at Harry, who had a serious look on his face. Oliver asked the question that was on all of their minds. "Have you seen it yet, Harry?"
"I've seen it twice now and Diggory has once. I went for it both times but lost it in the rain. It might have gone under the Ravenclaw stand, but I'm not sure."
"Okay Harry," Oliver sighed. "Ideally, we need another fifty points to be in a better position for the cup. It will be tight if we don't. Slytherin will put a hundred points on the 'Puffs if they get some luck and decent weather." He paused again and ran a hand down his tired face. "We keep on. You girls are on fire, up the speed and start running through the Ravenclaw plays. I'd rather we didn't have to, but we don't have much choice."
"You got it, Ollie," Katie agreed. "If you can get me out of this crap weather, Harry, I'll kiss you." She half-joked.
The chorus of approval from Angelina and Alicia turned into laughter as Harry blushed bright red and started to stammer. George slung an arm across his shoulders, gesturing at Katie like a game show host.
"Just look at what you could win, young Potter, your very own slightly damp chaser for the low, low price of just one golden snitch!"
"How about some extra motivation, Katie? A back rub? Just how grateful do you think you'll be?" Fred continued the teasing. Harry by now looked like an overheated muggle light bulb.
Oliver took control of the huddle long enough to issue his orders. "Okay team, enough of that. Let's leave it all on the field, they're tired now and flying on fumes. If we lift our game, they won't be able to stay with us. We know this 'Puff team isn't that good, so keep changing the point of attack and call the plays as you see the space. Go with Midas, Angie, then Brooks and Tree. Fred, George, keep up the pressure on Diggory. He's their danger player and we need him as distracted as possible. Harry, make a couple of feints and keep an eye out, but we really need goals, so keep Diggory busy. We got this, Lions on three: One, two, three."
The team nodded, and they put their hands in the middle and chanted "Lions!"
"Madam Hooch has called the teams back to the middle of the pitch, bludgers are released, quaffle is up and, Potter's diving! No, it's a feint. Diggory didn't even follow him. Preece has the quaffle, no!" Evans gasped. "A bludger almost took off his head, a Weasley twin, dunno which one. The quaffle is loose and collected by Johnson, pass to Spinnet, pass to Bell! Bell is charging, Applebee is right beside her fighting for the quaffle, careful Tammy, close to a foul there. She's dropped the quaffle! Was that quaffing?"
The weather had eased during the opening few minutes of play, the wind had dropped to barely a whisper, and although the rain clouds overhead still loomed, the rain had stopped.
"You can tell Gryffindor has changed tactics. The Weasley twins are peppering Diggory with bludgers, which has caused O'Flaherty and Ricketts to break off and help him out," Jones said. "This might backfire on Wood. The 'Puff chasers aren't pushovers!"
"Yes, they are!" Lee Jordan countered, "the only thing that has kept them in the game is the bad weather and Katie carrying an injury!" Lee must have been on the receiving end of a patented McGonagall glare as he changed the subject quickly. "A Hawkhead arrow has formed to protect Spinnet. Nope, it broke up quickly there and some slight of hand that has given Johnson a clear run on goal, no 'Puff chaser within ten metres of her. Score through the middle hoop after Fleet loses his grip on his broom and is left clinging to a hoop for dear life!"
Madam Hooch blew her whistle and summoned the keeper's broom back to him; she paused just long enough to ensure he was airborne again before she recommenced play by tossing the quaffle high into the air.
McAvoy secured the quaffle from the outstretched fingers of Angelina Johnson and streaked down the pitch before lobbing a loose pass to Applebee, who took only her second shot of the game towards Oliver's right hoop. A dramatic spin and tail save sent the quaffle flying off towards the Hufflepuff end, accompanied by a groan of dismay from the Hufflepuff students. That had been their first shot on goal for half an hour.
"Oh, so close there for Applebee, forcing a brilliant save from Wood," groaned Evans. "A tail save has given Gryffindor a promising attack. Spinnet is way ahead of the chasing pack, and-" His sharp intake of breath was joined by the supporters of every house.
Alicia Spinnet had been winged by a bludger, just as she had been about to release the quaffle. It flew wide as she struggled to control her disrupted broom. Angelina Johnson was the first to the quaffle, but all the defending chasers had clustered around the hoops and she checked her charge to heave a pass across the field to Katie Bell on the far side. She was much closer and released the quaffle just as Diggory dropped in front of her and knocked the quaffle off course once again.
"Johnson has been checked by a solid 'Puff defence. She passes to Bell who shoots and, a feint from Diggory has disrupted play again! The quaffle is recovered by Bell and she weaves through heavy traffic, but loses the quaffle. No, a drop pass to Spinnet! What a goal from Alicia Spinnet, the quaffle in her hand for less than a second. That is how you shoot from the hip!" Lee Jordan was crowing again.
"Potter is diving again, he's weaving through bludgers. Has he seen the snitch?" Evans questioned.
"Diggory seems to think so, he's hot on Potter's heels and catching him as he isn't having to dodge around bludgers!" Jordan took over, head flicking between the seeker chase and the still developing chaser play.
"Hufflepuff on the charge, with Preece having won the fifty fifty challenge with Spinnet, pass to McAvoy, to Applebee back to Preece. He shoots- score! Hufflepuff is back to sixty behind again."
Jones was interrupted by a great shout by Lee Jordan, who was leaning far over the side of the box.
"Potter is under the stand! He's chasing something! It's the snitch! How the hell did he see it under there?!" Jordan exclaimed.
"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall shouted, but he overrode her protest.
"There's a bludger after him! And Diggory is swooping in from the side! They're shoulder to shoulder! Argh, I can't see." Lee declared in dismay.
Jones took up the commentary. "They flew underneath and out the back! They're tussling over the top of the Slytherin stand! Duck! A student fell! Oh, it was only Malfoy! Shame he was caught by the net!" This was met by shocked laughter from the stand.
"Jones!" McGonagall interceded, shocked.
"Sorry professor! The chase has led them towards the Hufflepuff hoops! Now up! They're rising, rising! No, they've pulled out of their climb looking around! The snitch has disappeared again!" Jones continued, disappointment clear in his voice.
"The quaffle is with Spinnet, pass to Johnson to Bell. Intercept by McAvoy and she's away, no, she isn't, clipped by a Weasley bludger and she loses the quaffle. Recovered by Bell. To Johnson, she avoids a bludger from Rickett. Pass to Spinnet." Jordan said. "Burst of acceleration there from Johnson, Preece right alongside. This is a great game the 'Puffs are having. They better play like this against the slimy-"
"Jordan, commentate or I will replace you with Miss Brown!" Professor McGonagall interrupted, incensed.
"Sorry professor," Jordan grimaced. "Commentate only. Johnson to Bell, Potter is diving, Diggory right beside him! Perfect Wronski feint! Unfortunately, Diggory's was too. They both pull up but- what's this? They are both staring underneath the Ravenclaw bleachers! Mind the bludgers Harry! And they're off, straight under the stands again!"
"There's the snitch!" Evans overrode Lee again. "The charge is on across the pitch, bludgers from both sets of beaters! Close one there, Ced! Come on, come on!"
"Johnson has the quaffle, streaking away! The Hufflepuff chasers have all been caught snitch gazing! She's one on one with Fleet. He is coming forward to narrow the gap. She passed him and scores! Angelina Johnson has bagged another!"
"No! Diggory has been clipped on the leg by a Weasley bludger! He's losing ground! Potter is stretching! No!" Evans groaned in dismay.
"Yes! Potter has the snitch!" Lee Jordan cheer led the celebrating Gryffindor students as the raven haired seeker peeled off from the chase, arm in the air. "Gryffindor wins! Three hundred and seventy to one hundred and eighty! What a game!"
"Yeeesss!" Oliver Wood almost fell off his broom, he cheered so hard. Hands back on, he sped towards the middle of the pitch on an intercept course with his team.
Harry and the twins landed in a tangle of brooms as they embraced him and each other and screamed in joy. The chasers zoomed in and joined the huddle just before Oliver arrived, and for a few seconds it was just seven soaking people in the mud, shouting over each other and grinning like idiots.
"You're some boy there, Potter!" a Weasley exclaimed.
Everyone beamed. The other brother whooped and grabbed Angelina in a big hug and kissed her.
A Weasley caught Oliver's eye. "Ollie, mate, are you crying?"
"It's raining," Oliver said firmly.
"Want a hanky?"
"I am not crying. It is raining. We are outside. In the rain."
"Right you are, captain." The twin patted him on the shoulder with exaggerated sympathy. "Just rain."
"Come on, Lions. Let's shake hands,"
They shouldered their brooms and turned toward the bleachers, where a group of defeated Hufflepuffs and a drenched Madam Hooch waited.
Oliver sought out Diggory first. The Hufflepuff captain's robes were plastered to him and his hair was in his eyes, but he stuck his hand out without hesitation.
"Hell of a match, Wood."
"Your lot gave us more trouble than the scoreline says. Applebee was outstanding."
Diggory blinked, surprised. Then he smiled properly. "I'll tell her you said that."
Congratulations, commiserations, and handshakes all around preceded a speech by their referee.
"I must say, students, that apart from the weather, that was one of the best games of school quidditch that I have ever refereed," Hooch said. "Very few fouls, no serious infractions, some brilliant goals and a terrific snitch chase. Well done to both teams."
It was a bedraggled group of teenagers who finally made it to the safety of the quidditch locker room. One of the Weasleys cleared his throat and everybody turned towards him.
"There is a promise to fulfil, I believe," he regally stated, giving Katie the fish eye. His brother grinned and clamped a hand onto Harry's shoulder to prevent him from running away. The Hufflepuffs all looked confused, but the five older Gryffindor's present all had malicious grins plastered on their faces.
Katie sniffed. "Not in front of you lot," she stated imperiously. She proceeded to raise an eyebrow and tapped a tiny size three quidditch boot.
"Ahh, Katie," the other Weasley complained as he was shoved bodily through the boy's door by Oliver. The boys waited and stared at the closed door for a minute before it opened quietly and they could see Harry standing there and Katie entering the girls' locker room behind him.
He had the biggest smile on his face Oliver had ever seen. Bigger than he had just sported winning the match.
The whole room erupted in cheers as he walked forward and the door swung closed behind him.
T.B.C