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Angelina Johnson wishes she could go back to the blissful ignorance of ten minutes ago, back when she thought Oliver’s lowest point was when he tried to drown himself in the shower.
She had been wrong. So dreadfully, tragically, massively wrong.
Oliver had hit rock bottom with absolutely no signs of recovery when he came into today’s practice with a… creative idea for ensuring they secure the Quidditch Cup.
“Our main problem,” Oliver says, his hair sticking up, his eyes wide open, “is dementors.” He picks up gold sparkly chalk and scribbles on the blackboard, like a man finally reaching shore. “That’s why we lost against Hufflepuff, because the fucking dementors invited themselves!”
Oliver sighs, running his hand - the one still holding glittery chalk - through his hair, leaving streaks of gold sparkles behind. “The Ministry won’t listen. Apparently, the dementors are essential to preserving our safety against an escaped mass murderer.” He frowns, face wrinkling. “Or some shit like that. I’m not sure, that’s what Percy told me. But what about my future? I can’t win the Quidditch Cup if dementors are harassing my team!” Oliver pauses, looking at Harry with surprising gentleness. “Not your fault, kid.”
Harry shrugs, pushing back his glasses. Oliver ranting before Quidditch practice is par for the course, particularly this year, his last chance of making gold.
“So if the Ministry won’t listen to us,” Oliver says, “we need to eliminate Sirius Black from the picture. No mass murderer on the loose, no more dementors.”
“Oliver, I cannot believe I have to say this, but no chasing after mass murderers,” Alicia says, smile tight.
Angelina cannot help but nod vigorously in agreement. What the fuck, Oliver. Just get some people to cast some patronouses next Quidditch match. No need to go and try to get yourself killed over Quidditch.
But if there is one thing Angelina knows about Oliver Wood - who is, regrettably, her friend - it is that when he gets an idea into his head, he will not let it go before it comes to fruition.
She wanted a normal year.
She will not get a normal year.
.
After practice, Angelina goes up to Percy Weasley.
Maybe he will be able to talk some sense into his boyfriend.
Instead, she finds him pouring over old newspapers from 1981.
“Seriously?” Angelina says. She can’t hide the disappointment in her voice. “You’re supposed to be the responsible one!”
Percy sighs, looking up from his latest newspaper. Sirius Black imprisoned for life is emblazened across the page. “He’s an adult, Angelina.”
“Only technically,” Angelina says, disgruntled.
Percy gives her a look that is very pointed. “I can’t control him. At least this way, he’s not alone.”
“Sap,” Angelina replies, and makes a mental note to ask Fred to hold off on harassing Percy for a bit.
He’s got enough on his plate. Head Boy, NEWT student and making sure Oliver doesn’t get himself killed in a foolhardy endeavour to protect Quidditch from dementors. And if he helps Oliver with his wild goose chase, maybe Angelina will be left alone.
Oliver may be her friend, but she does have some lines she will not cross. She goes along with his military style Quidditch practice, even when her body is crying out for sleep. She helps keep George and Fred in line during practice. They listen to their team's matches on the wireless together, even when it's inconvenient.
But if he wants to chase down a mass murderer, that's his problem. Angelina has OWLs to worry about.
Hopefully he calls off the search before he gets himself killed.
.
Oliver does not call off the search.
On Thursday night, she comes down into the Common Room to hang with the twins, Lee and Alicia, only to find Oliver chatting to a floating head in the fireplace, the twins right beside him.
“ - you’ve been so helpful! Truly, I would never have thought to use that spell.”
Oliver is talking to Bill Weasley, jotting stuff down frantically in a notebook.
Bill Weasley, who currently lives in Egypt, and should therefore be immune to Oliver Wood shenanigans.
“You’re welcome, Ollie,” Bill says, his smile wry. “Good luck!”
He disappears in a flash of green.
Angelina leaves the Common Room, stalking back up the stairs to her room, Alicia following behind her.
She is not getting involved.
.
Professor Lupin is the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher Angelina has ever had.
There wasn’t exactly a high bar, but still: Angelina is very grateful that she has someone who is competent at his job for her OWLs year. Although playing professional Quidditch is her goal, unlike the twins she doesn't plan on failing any of her OWLs.
Professor Lupin even has office hours.
She’s waiting outside his office with her latest essay when the door swings open, Oliver lingering on the other side.
“Thanks for your help!” He says, brightly, before walking out.
He turns to Angelina, his eyes twinkling just a little too intensely. “Professor Lupin went to school with Sirius Black - Percy found his yearbook in the archives - so I was just asking him some questions. He’s also taken on Harry for some anti-dementor lessons, which is good, in case I don’t catch Sirius Black.”
“Stop trying to hunt down a mass murderer, Oliver,” Angelina says, but her words are rote, worn. Just like don’t wake me up at five o’clock for quidditch practice, oliver or don’t leave the twins unsupervised with the bludgers, oliver.
“I won’t!” He says, just as brightly, before leaving.
Angelina just sighs.
Of course.
.
A few more weeks pass. Winter digs its claws into the castle and Oliver’s fervor seems to die down a little. At the very least, he stops openly fantasising about catching Sirius Black and ridding Hogwarts of dementors before every Quidditch practice.
That is, until she catches him talking with Tonks at the Three Broomsticks and a middle-aged woman with long brown curls.
She does not want to approach Oliver. This has Sirius Black hunting written all over it.
But Alicia does. Not for Oliver, but for Tonks, who is her sister’s friend.
“Hi Tonks,” Alicia says, beaming, dragging Angelina behind her.
Angelina chugs her butterbeer.
Tonks smiles warmly, although the woman sitting next to them looks a little wane. “Wotcher! This is my mum, Andromeda, and Mum, this is Sylvia’s sister, Alicia. Oliver’s just asking us a few questions about Sirius Black.”
Andromeda sighs, drinking some of her wine before saying, stiffly: “He was my cousin.”
“It’s been quite insightful,” Oliver adds.
His notebook is overflowing with messy black ink.
Angelina quietly removes herself from the situation before she can be noticed, placing her empty butterbeer on the counter.
At this rate, Oliver may actually successfully catch Sirius Black.
Life lesson number one: do not stand between Oliver Wood and Quidditch. It is a very unwise idea.
Angelina gets it. Winning Quidditch - playing Quidditch - is exhilarating.
But there are some lines she will not cross in her pursuit of it, and hunting down a mass murderer is one of them.
Shocker.
.
Angelina is walking in the hallways, minding her business.
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Cho Chang slip Oliver a magazine.
“This has all recent Sirius Black sightings,” she says, sighing. “I don’t want to play Quidditch with dementors anymore than you do. They aren't good spectators.”
“Thanks,” Oliver says, smiling.
Angelina keeps on walking.
.
It is almost Christmas break when things finally come to a head.
Percy has temporarily taken back Ron’s rat, Scabbers, to perform a basic health check.
Personally, Angelina thinks - from what she’s gleaned from Fred and George’s complaints about Ron's rat - that Scabbers has simply reached the end of his natural lifespan. Rats simply do not live that long.
And Oliver Wood has gotten it into his head, after hearing Huffepuffs theorise that Sirius Black snuck into the castle on Halloween by transforming himself into a plotted plant, that Sirius Black has been sneaking around as an animagus.
Unlikely, but better than the plotted plant theory. Oliver is slightly more educated than a third year.
He’s been practicing the spell to forcibly transform an animagus back all week.
Everything culminates in a loud shriek on an otherwise ordinary Wednesday night.
Percy runs down the stairs, his robes askew, his face pale. “Can someone fetch McGonagall?”
You know things are serious when Percy Weasley forgets to tack on Professor.
Oliver Wood does not catch Sirius Black. But he does manage to catch someone else.
When McGonagall comes, she helps, her wand trembling with rage, take down an adult man from Percy and Oliver’s dorm.
“Scabbers is an animagus,” Oliver says, numbly.
Things unravel from there.
.
When they return after the break, the dementors are gone and Harry has a firebolt, courtesy of his recently exonerated godfather.
Oliver is in high spirits. He also received a firebolt from Sirius Black as thanks for accidentally exonerating him.
Angelina is just happy she no longer has a friend trying to catch a mass murderer.
Instead, she has more important things to worry about.
It is time to win the Quidditch Cup.