In All His Quidditch Glory

In All His Quidditch Glory

Chapter: 3

Rice

Harry and Ron came down from their dorm to meet Hermione before they went down to breakfast. They stepped off the bottom step and were greeted by the backs of practically the entire Gryffindor house. It seemed they were trying to make their way to read a piece of parchment on the notice board.

"Wow, I didn't think he'd make the team," came the voice of someone near the front of the huddle.

Ron and Harry looked at each other, simultaneously thinking, 'The list of the final team!'

Ron practically barged his way to the front and read allowed to Harry the people posted there.

Hogwarts Quidditch Team:

Final List

Chasers: Stewart Ackerley (4^th Year Ravenclaw)

Draco Malfoy (7^th Year Slytherin)

Rose Zeller (3^rd Year Hufflepuff)

Beaters: Kare Benscik (6^th Year Slytherin)

Graeme Hanratty (5^th Year Hufflepuff)

Keeper: Ginny Weasely (6^th year Gryffindor)

Seeker: Harry Potter (7^th Year Gryffindor)

Reserve list will be posted in the next few days. Practice times will be announced during breakfast.

Congratulations.

"I didn't make the team." Ron had struggled his way out of the crowd and was standing with Harry near the exit to the common room. He looked at Harry disbelievingly. "Ginny made it, but I didn't. Merlin, Harry, even Malfoy made Chaser!"

Harry looked at Ron sympathetically but only nodded in reply, he knew Malfoy would do anything to be on the team. This news didn't surprise him.

Hermione had finally battled her way through the crowd as well, not nearly as interested in the commotion, just wanting to get out. The three headed out and down to breakfast, Ron trailing a bit behind Harry and Hermione, still in a state of shock. They entered the Great Hall and were met by an overly excited Ginny.

"Congratulations, Ginny," Harry said with a smile.

"Congratulations to you too, Harry." She beamed and hugged Harry then her brother.

"Yeah, Ginny, congratulations." Ron didn't sound nearly as excited as he should have about his sister's success.

Ginny gave Ron a concerned look. "I'm sorry you didn't make the team. I'm sure you'll at least be a reserve."

"Reserve?! I just missed the chance to play properly on a Hogwarts side! Reserve! Who wants that?" Ron began to colour red in the face. It seemed the shock was wearing off. "I can't believe they chose a girl instead!"

Hermione bristled. "Well, you don't deserve much if you're going to act like that."

Harry just sighed and scanned the room for signs of Oliver. Seeing only the faces of teachers and a myriad of students he gave up and sat down to breakfast.

* * *

Oliver was sitting in the empty stands surrounding the field, gazing at nothing in particular. He had endured two straight weeks of watching students try out for each position. Twenty people had showed up for Chaser and he had kept pages of mental notes as well as a few scribbles on paper to help him make the final decisions. The easiest position to fill was surprisingly the Beaters; only five had shown up but it was obvious which two had the strength and agility needed to fill the spot. He purposely, however, saved his pride and joy until last. Keeper tryouts were the most riveting for Oliver. Though, only one student caught his attention and held him in place for her entire session. Her moves were on par with his when he used to be on the Gryffindor side--hell, some were up to his standard now. The other hopefuls were practically ignored by him after Ginny Weasley had had her run through.

His eyes focused back onto the now-empty field. He was to meet Draco for their Chaser practice session in just less than an hour. The silence of the field was immense in Oliver's mind. It was one thing to admire the players on a field, but he always felt he needed his lone time, just him and the unbroken stillness of the huge field.

A slight breeze was blowing, rippling his robes as he stood up to make his way down to the bottom of the field. He took one last look towards the field and noticed the figure of Draco Malfoy rising into the air. It seemed he was early and hadn't noticed Oliver sitting in the stands. Oliver sat back down for a moment, watching Draco do a lap of the field in the air. He was clad in the official uniform. Oliver frowned at that. He hadn't given anyone permission to wear those robes just yet. He noticed the cloak of the robe blow out into the wind, Draco's platinum blond hair contrasting strongly with the deep black of the uniform. Oliver could possibly forgive him just this once. Shaking out of his reverie, Oliver headed down onto the field to retrieve his broom and Quaffle.

Draco noticed Oliver moving across the field and flew back down, hovering just above the ground near Oliver's gear.

Oliver gave a small nod and half smile before proceeding, "What are you doing wearing that uniform?"

"Well, it is mine, isn't it? It was hanging in my locker," Draco said, looking slightly offended.

"In a completely different locker than your usual one that you don't have the combination for yet. You magicked your way into it." Oliver folded his arms across his chest. "How about you go and de-robe."

"De-robe?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "Then what, pray tell?"

"Don't play with me, Malfoy, get back into your usual practice gear," Oliver said quickly, trying to cover up his obvious slip of the tongue.

Draco's eyebrow dropped back into its usual place. Raising his chin a little he turned back towards the change rooms. Oliver's cheeks tinged a little and he tried hard not to think about Draco 'de-robing'.

Instead, he rose up into the air, Quaffle in hand, ready to begin the training session. It wasn't long before Draco re-emerged in his usual Slytherin uniform. Dumbledore hadn't finalised everything about the team yet so he had specifically told Oliver to not let the students begin flaunting the new Quidditch gear.

Draco flew up in front of Oliver. "So, are we ready?"

"Well that all depends on you Draco," Oliver said with a small smirk. "Now, we'll just begin with a few practice catches. A good Chaser has the fundamental skills of catching, dodging and passing down pat. After that comes getting the Quaffle through the hoops."

Oliver had Draco flying around the field, getting used to catching and swerving swiftly to get in line with the Quaffle. It was amusing for Oliver to watch Draco getting into a sweat, throwing himself around to get hold of a ball. At one point, when Draco narrowly missed the Quaffle and had to go into a steep sideways dive for it, Oliver began laughing.

"What?" Draco said, panting and red in the face.

"Nothing, I just like determination in my players," Oliver replied with a grin. Not mentioning that he thought Draco looked unbearably attractive with his hair matted down around his face because of his sweat.

Draco just shook his head and then did something he wasn't quite used to. He smiled warmly at Oliver. He was having a good time with him and he couldn't help but break into a smile.

"Well, I like a coach who knows talent when he sees it."

Draco flew in close to Oliver to pass back the Quaffle. Their fingers touched slightly and Oliver could feel the heat of Draco's body, his breath falling heavily. They hovered close for a second before Oliver grabbed the Quaffle and then moved away, flying back down to the ground. Draco waited a moment and then descended, following Oliver.

"I think that's enough for one lesson," Oliver said firmly, looking just beyond a very calm Draco. "You're a quick learner. We can practice your dodging skills when we have a proper team training session. Until then I think you're set."

Draco nodded slowly. He only hesitated for a second before he walked over to the change rooms to shower and get back into his school robes.

Oliver began packing up the Quidditch gear. Mentally lecturing himself about not letting emotions get in the way of a training session. He knew his place - a coach, a confidant, a person of responsibility - he also knew Draco was probably not thinking along the same lines as his mind was running on.

He finished packing up the Quidditch gear but continued to loiter on the field. In two weeks he hadn't had very much conversation and any that he did have was Quidditch related. While he loved the game more than anything there were times when he just wanted to speak with someone. Not captain to player, not coach to teacher, just simple one friend to another.

Draco came out of the change rooms and came back up to Oliver to get his broom. He didn't make any eye contact as he picked up his broom and started to turn.

"Draco -" Oliver began, pausing as Draco's head darted back quickly to face him when he heard his name being said. "Could I speak with you?"

Draco gave Oliver a fairly questioning look. "What is it?"

"Well, how about we walk for a while?" Oliver took Draco's broom and placed it down next to his. He then motioned for Draco to walk a few paces with him.

Draco, slightly unsure, began following out of curiosity.

Oliver laughed. "I'm not going to bite. I just haven't had a conversation with anyone since I got here."

"What about Potter?" Draco said.

"Harry's not the best for conversation sometimes. He's always brooding over something," Oliver explained.

Draco nodded knowingly. "Never stops thinking about the past. I know."

This surprised Oliver. "What do you mean, you know? Since when have you kept up with Harry?"

Draco shrugged in answer and tried changing the topic. "So, what did you want to talk about? Surely not Potter?"

"No, no. But you're not getting away that easy. Explain yourself." Oliver hadn't made captain without being able to get others to do what he wanted.

"It's nothing seriously," Draco said looking slightly annoyed.

Oliver smirked. "I know you used to be a little obsessed with Harry, is that it?"

Draco looked at Oliver with extreme disdain. "What do you mean obsessed with Harry? I was never obsessed with anyone."

"Yes you were, I used to talk to Flint about how you'd talk to your broom about beating him," Oliver said. He almost broke into laughter, he'd been waiting years to mention that.

"Hey, look Wood. That only happened once. Flint doesn't know what he's talking about. No one knows," Draco said in slightly raised tones.

"What do you mean, no one knows? No one knows what?" Oliver's mind began to back track a little on their conversation. "No one knows about, you and Harry? What exactly about you and Harry?"

Draco shrugged again and looked towards the buildings, his body was tense.

"Wait a minute... you and Harry? Are you saying that you and Harry..." Oliver trailed off and raised his eyebrows a little.

Draco sighed. 'Wood was just way too insightful for his own bloody good,' he thought. 'Many would like to get their hands on this information.'

"Ok, fine, Potter and I 'dated' last year. Is that what you want to hear?"

Oliver tried hard to suppress a grin. "Wow," he said, "that was unexpected."

"Look, it wasn't that big of a deal. We both needed... something... and we were both there to give it to each other exactly the way we wanted it. No one knew about it, except Potter's two-person fan club, and my Father." Draco ended, clearing his throat and looking a tad uneasy.

Oliver's mind went down a moderately guttery track at this point, getting fairly jumbled and finally producing, 'So Draco has a preference for men?'

Draco looked at Oliver and continued quickly, "I'm not gay or anything. Just... needed something different for once."

Oliver only nodded. "So, how did it all end?"

"My Father," Draco said shortly.

Oliver was just about to ask more questions, but Draco cut in.

"Let's not dig up bad memories," he said, shaking his head.

Draco felt a little awkward as he walked next to Oliver. Civil conversations with Gryffindors or ex-Gryffindors were not common practice for him. They walked in silence for a while, rounding into the entrance to the main courtyard of Hogwarts. It was a Saturday, so students were milling around on the grass. They stood just out of view, in the alcove of one of the arched entrances.

Draco looked at Oliver and felt a slight pity for him. It must be hard to be only recognised for talent in a game than for personality. This got Draco thinking -

"Well, you know about Potter. So who was it for you? The one that got away," he asked, wondering why he cared at all.

Oliver gave Draco a slanted smile. "Blue-green eyes, dirty blond hair, great in bed and an American muggle."

Draco laughed. Some second year Slytherins who were walking past gave him odd looks when they heard this. "I meant, what was her name?"

"Why do you presume it was a her?" Oliver asked slyly.

Draco's eyebrow rose up again in its usual fashion. "Very funny, Wood." He smirked.

Oliver was just about to continue when he heard a voice calling out from behind them. Harry was walking up, his usual company nowhere to be seen.

"Oliver! I've been looking everywhere for you," Harry began, stopping when he noticed Draco standing with him. "Oh, am I interrupting something?" His tone held exaggerated civility.

"Yes, Potter, you were," Draco said with contempt.

Oliver looked between the two boys, Draco, slightly taller, but Harry obviously stronger. They had such intense emotion in their stares. More than Oliver had ever seen between them back when he was in school. He made a point never to get on the bad side of either boy.

"Well," Oliver started, trying to break the tension, "what did you want Harry?"

Harry returned his gaze to Oliver. "Nothing too important." His eyes shifted back to Malfoy.

"How about we continue our discussion some other time, Draco?" Oliver said.

Draco tilted his head and nodded. "Sure. I was wondering if we could fit in another session though? To get me some... scoring practice," Draco said while he watched Wood nod slowly in reply. "I'll see you later... Oliver."

Oliver stared after Draco disbelievingly, 'Was that a hint?' He couldn't think too hard about it though as Harry began speaking again. He cursed the boy.