Oliver Wood and the Heritage Curse

The next morning Oliver once again escaped from Percy on the way to breakfast and headed for the quidditch field. On his way through Hogwarts he made a few twists and turns, ducking into dark hallways or behind statues, just to make sure that he lost his fan club on the way out. He had no idea how ridiculous he looked, but at one point Katie witnessed him looking over his shoulder like a pursued convict and then dodging behind a statue of an old headmaster, and thought he looked quite strange.

"What is he doing?" she asked Angelina, who shrugged.

"I don't know, and we're just going to keep moving." Angelina steered her away from Oliver but she watched him over her shoulder until Angelina turned them around a corner.

Oliver made it out the front entrance free of followers (who decided to hang around Cedric Diggory until their true love appeared again) and sprinted to the quidditch field. After sitting up half the night trying to sort through the Gryffindor chasers' enlightenments he had finally decided that the best thing to do would be to throw himself even harder into quidditch. That morning he planned to work on some new plays to use against that pretty boy, Cedric Diggory, and then that night the team would begin practice.

Oliver stared intently at the three goals on the south side of the field, thinking about the differences that a bigger and stronger seeker would bring to a game of quidditch. He had finally decided on a few things that would help Harry have an advantage over Cedric when a bludger whizzed past his head, almost smashing his right ear.

"What the?!" Oliver looked around frantically trying to see where the bludger had come from as well as to avoid being smacked by it in case it came back.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry!" a female voice exclaimed. Oliver spun around and saw Emma hurtling towards him.

"I was behind that tree over there and I couldn't see you . . . oh, Wood, it's you." Emma halted a few feet away from him. She was carrying a beater in her left hand and now searched the sky instead of looking at Wood. "Really, I didn't know anyone was out here."

"Don't worry about," Oliver stuttered. "Did you say you were behind that tree?" He pointed to a tree that looked tiny because it was so far away.

"Yeah," Emma confirmed, not checking to see where he was pointing. The bludger was plummeting back towards them and she lifted her beater.

"But that's brilliant! Not even the Weasley twins could hit a bludger that far! Where did you learn to do that?" Oliver was still gazing at the tree and didn't notice the bludger spiraling towards his head.

"Watch out!" Emma yelled. Oliver spun around just in time to see her smash the bludger with her beater. He stared at her, mouth open. "You are a wicked beater."

Emma smiled faintly. "Be careful, it's going to come back in a second. This one has it in for you." Oliver watched, and the bludger did indeed come tumbling down heading straight towards his head for a third time. This time Emma knocked it more lightly, and on the return fall caught it with both arms. The impact of the feisty bludger knocked her to the ground.

"Go get my box - it's over there by the tree," Emma demanded as she struggled to hold the wildly vibrating bludger. Oliver retrieved the box as quickly as he could, dropped it on the ground next to Emma, and opened the lid so she could secure the spirited bludger inside it. "I think it knew you were on the opposing team. I'm going to get a bruise from that one. Just as the others were starting to heal, too." Emma's wounds were now barely visible scars, and probably as well healed as they were going to be. Oliver offered her a hand to help her up but she pretended not to see and got up by herself.

"Well, I'm sorry about that," Emma said, picking up the box of Hufflepuff's quidditch balls. "I guess I'll see you around," she started to walk away but Oliver called out,

"Wait! Aren't you going to tell me how you learned to do that?"

Emma stopped. She knew that if she told him he would looked confused, which would be adorable, then he would look surprised, which would be endearing, and then he would be amazed and surely he would smile which might convince her to ask him for help with flying. No, this is ridiculous, I can handle this, she said to herself and slowly turned back around.

"Baseball," she said. Oliver looked baffled and it was absolutely adorable. Oh no, this is not good, Emma thought. "It's a muggle sport," she explained, wincing as his eyebrows started to rise. "I have American muggle cousins who I play with every summer."

"Oh yeah. I think I heard about that in Muggle Studies." Emma had been wrong - he looked intrigued rather than amazed, but it was equally attractive. "The Great American Pastime," Oliver said with relish and Emma couldn't help but smile at him.

"Yes, that it is," Emma agreed, holding back her laughter. "In short, a big part of baseball involves hitting balls with a bat - that's similar to a beater. So that is why I am a good beater. Except for that whole flying thing." Emma peered down at her feet. She hadn't meant to say anything about her bad flying.

"Well, if you wanted, and of course you don't have to agree if you don't want to, because it's not that I don't think you can do it on your own, but if you do want it, I could help you." Oliver examined his hands, too embarrassed to look at her. Why had he suggested it? Just because she was such a good beater?

Emma was stunned. This was an unexpected turn. Unsure of how else to respond she said, "Sure, yeah. Thanks. I'll talk to you later then." Quickly she left, half-running back towards the castle.

Oliver stood on the quidditch field for a moment completely confused by what had happened. Then slowly he began to walk, no longer thinking about new quidditch strategies or Cedric Diggory or his newly discovered fan club. What have I gotten myself into, he wondered.

It took Percy and Penelope two days to set up a meeting time for the hesitant Emma and perplexed Oliver. Since Emma was too stubborn to talk to Oliver, and Oliver was too embarrassed to talk to Emma, messages passed from Oliver to Percy to Penelope to Emma and then back again. Sometimes, to move things along more quickly, Percy and Penelope would change the message.

"She says she doesn't care what time they meet," Penelope would tell Percy.

"Okay, she says she wants to meet in the evening, but definitely not on Tuesday," Percy would tell Oliver. By this system they finally agreed to have Emma's first flying lesson on Wednesday night.

On Wednesday evening Penelope spent half an hour convincing Emma to go to the lesson. Finally, at the end of her patience, she exclaimed "Good grief! Most of the girls in this school would be ecstatic to be in your place! This is Oliver Wood! Just go and stop stalling. He's cute, he's nice, he can help you - you're not going to get another offer like this one." Emma had never seen Penelope so frustrated, and feeling properly chastised for being so stubborn, went outside to the quidditch field.

Oliver was already there. He had magicked several quaffles to fly at the goal and blocked each one expertly. Emma watched him, amazed, as he spun in several circles, blocking a quaffle while upside down. Emma's stomach lurched and she braced the bottom of her broom against the ground to keep herself from running away. Determined to take control of the situation Emma yelled "Wood! Wood get down here! I don't have all night!"

Startled, Oliver looked over at her and a quaffle nearly smacked him in the head. Oliver landed, cast a spell to bring the magicked quaffles down to the ground, and slowly approached Emma. He was sweaty, but even with his short brown hair ruffled and damp he was adorable. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you. Every time I'm anywhere near you something is flying at my head."

Emma winced, but Oliver smiled and laughed. "I'm just kidding. Don't worry about it." On the quidditch field Oliver was completely in control. No one from the team, no professor, no girl could shake him when he was practicing quidditch.

Emma felt light-headed when he laughed and smiled. Oliver was like a drug, tranquilizing her into submission. That moment was the beginning of their friendship.

"First of all, let me get a look at your broom." Oliver took Emma's broom carefully, trying to avoid getting splinters from the wood peeling off the sides, and they walked a few feet to where he had set his broom-cleaning kit. He flopped down on the ground but Emma hovered above him, aloof as usual.

He began to clip off the smaller pieces of cracked wood and magically adhere the bigger pieces. "I'm going to do a little repair work and if you watch you'll be able to do this by yourself later," Oliver explained. "This is just a simple spell. Any time your broom gets chipped you can use it to fix the chip." Emma nodded. "Where did you get this broom anyway?" Oliver asked, expertly smoothing down a particularly large splinter.

"It was actually passed down through my family, for who knows how many years." Emma smiled knowingly to herself. "My family is big on tradition, almost ridiculously so."

Oliver raised his eyes with interest. "Really. Well I don't want to put your family down but I have to wonder if the problem is the broom and not you. Have you considered that it might be cursed?"

"What? No, it can't be." Emma narrowed her eyes in doubt. She had been pacing behind Oliver but now she crouched in front of him and peered at the top of his head. "I think you've been letting Defense Against the Dark Arts get to your head."

Oliver looked up from her broom and directly into her penetrating eyes and had to drop his head back down, unable to hold her intense gaze. He finally smiled, shaking his head and laughing, and looked at her again. "I may be a little overly enthusiastic about Defense Against the Dark Arts sometimes - it is one of the only subjects that I like - but I'm serious. I think there's something wrong with this broom."

After seeing him smile at such close range and so directly at her, Emma would have taken a deadly curse on his behalf. So when Oliver suggested that she use his broom during their practices and ask her parents for a new one, Emma agreed with fairly little convincing.

"Good," Oliver said, smiling at her again. Emma now began to find his smile contagious and felt giddy whenever he gave her even the slightest grin. "I'm going to push these wires back down now, then polish the handle and you should be good to go. Even if you don't use it, at least you can return it to your mum and dad in good condition."

Emma nodded, watching him carefully press the wires back down. "Be careful," she warned him. "Those wires hurt a lot when they cut you."

Oliver glanced at the faint scar on her face and smiled sympathetically. "With the way you handled those wounds I don't think anything could take you out of a quidditch match."

For the first time in her conversations with Oliver, Emma blushed. Oliver was looking down and didn't notice, but Emma jumped up anyway, paranoid that he would see.

"Well, Davies doesn't agree with you," she said with obvious disgust.

"You know, that's something that's been bothering me. Why won't that obstinate captain of your's help you? If you were on my team I would be out here with you every day." Oliver scowled, displaying his disgust with the Ravenclaw team captain.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Yeah well, would you want someone who can't fly on your team?"

"Well . . . if they were the best person for the position," Oliver decided.

"I don't know if I'm the best but Davies doesn't want me. You know Cho Chang?"

Emma asked and Oliver nodded. Cho, Ravenclaw's new seeker, was a pretty fourth year. "She convinced Davies to let me on the team because he worships the ground she walks on. Davies really didn't want me."

"Why?" Oliver asked as he pulled out a bottle of "extra-sticky finishing polish" and began to polish the handle of Emma's broom. "By the way, this stuff will help you stay on your broom."

Emma nodded and let out a heavy breath, trying to control her temper. "Why doesn't Davies like me . . . let's see. I learned to be a beater from muggles, I've never played serious quidditch before, my mom is a muggle, and I'm a girl. Need any other reasons?" She ground her teeth together and clenched her fists, taking several short breaths.

Oliver gently set her broom aside and jumped up, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up something that would make you so angry." He smoothed her hair back and Emma inhaled deeply, holding her breath for a moment and then releasing it steadily.

"Sorry," she said quietly, suddenly aware of how close he was to her. Emma didn't really have any close friends and therefore no one who would take the time to talk with her like this. Penelope and some of the other girls would have been willing to, but Emma never let them get very close to her. She now wished that she had some more friends and, what frightened her more, that she could ask Oliver for a hug. "I, uh, didn't mean to go on about him like that," she pulled away from Oliver's hands that still rested on her shoulders.

Oliver suddenly realized what he had been doing and, embarrassed, ducked his head.

"Don't let him bother you. Davies doesn't know what he's talking about. None of those things should matter when it comes to quidditch. If you're a good player then nothing should get in the way of you playing. Especially having a muggle parent. Now, let's get to work and show that conceited captain what he's missing."

Emma was grateful that he'd ended the awkward moment. Maybe if he moved away from her she would stop feeling like hugging him. For the next hour Oliver guided Emma back through the basics of flying. Using Oliver's Nimbus 2000 for practice, Emma began to show improvement already by the end of the lesson. However, as they walked back to Hogwarts together she still wanted him to hug her.

Over the following month Emma's flying improved dramatically. By late September she had reached the status of a regular third year flyer, at least when the weather was good. Hoping to fully prepare her for the first Ravenclaw quidditch match, no matter what the weather conditions might happen to be, Oliver pushed their two day a week one hour sessions to three hours. On the other days he was holding Gryffindor team practice, leaving only enough non-class time to do his homework. He was the last person left in the Gryffindor common room on most nights but, fueled by quidditch, he never felt strained or tired - except in some of his more boring classes. With so much going on he forgot about his intention to examine Emma's broom for curses. He was suddenly reminded of it on the last Friday of September when he was headed to the quidditch field for Gryffindor practice.

Emma came barreling across the hallway and almost slammed into him. "Wood! Sorry! But I had to tell you!" she exclaimed.

Oliver stared at her, blinking his eyes several times in his bafflement. "You weren't even this excited the first time you hit a bludger while flying. What's going on?" he asked.

Emma was very uncharacteristically bouncing up and down, her voice loud and animated. "My parents said that I could get a new broom! They're going to send it to me a week before our first match. It took me forever to convince them to let me get one but I told them how much progress I was making and they finally agreed to buy one. You have no idea what a breakthrough this is - it was so strange how they refused to let that old broom go. But it doesn't matter now because I'm getting a new one!" she jumped up and down several times like an overexcited fan at the World Quidditch Cup. Oliver couldn't help but laugh at her.

"That's great!" he finally managed to say. "But that can't possibly be the only thing that's making you so excited. What happened? Did Davies leave and make you captain?"

Emma looked around at everything except Oliver, obviously trying to hide something. "Emma . . ." Oliver said, dragging her name out in his quidditch captain voice. "What did you do?"

Emma giggled - Oliver had never even heard a sound that even vaguely resembled this high-pitched noise come out of serious, controlled Emma Baxter. "Well," she began, chewing on a the end of one of her short pigtails, "Penelope just got this huge box of candy from Percy - it has everything in it: Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Fizzing Whizbees, toffees, nougat - you name it. I may have eaten a bit too much. But I was excited and I wanted to celebrate."

Oliver smiled at her affectionately, trying not to start laughing again. "I never would have thought the day would come . . ." he trailed off. "Well I think that you, silly girl, need to go run around outside."

"Okay!" Emma took off, sprinting ahead of Oliver, and escaped through the front door. Her unusual candy-induced behavior would shortly startle a group of professors holding a meeting close to the front entrance, the Weasley twins on their way to practice, Harry, Ron, and Hermione who were lying in the grass by the lake, and Cedric Diggory who was talking to Cho Chang while his followers scowled from a few feet away. Only 24 hours later Emma would deny the entire episode, but it came back many times to haunt her in her last two years at Hogwarts.

Emma and Oliver's friendship had grown at an almost unnoticeable rate, much like Emma's flying progress. A month of occasional chats during Emma's intense flying lessons, smiles exchanged during passes in the hallway and waves across the dining hall had slowly led to long discussions on the quidditch field after lessons, walks together to classes, and sitting back-to-back during meals. Oliver hadn't had enough time to think about this change, but he knew that he was more comfortable with her than he was with most people. Emma thought about their friendship more frequently, but had decided not to worry about what it meant. She was also trying to become better friends with some of the girls she knew - hence the candy intoxication brought on by Penelope's chocolates. The biggest change was not between Emma and Oliver themselves, but among Hogwarts students in general. When Oliver smiled girls now felt angry because his smiles were almost always directed at Emma, guys were happy because it meant that he was out of the way, and the Gryffindor quidditch team was still relieved because it still meant that he was actually pleased with them.

Katie noticed the change in Emma and Oliver's relationship more than anyone, but she kept it to herself. During the day she kept herself busy with homework and classes, but it was impossible to avoid Oliver at quidditch practices. As usual, he turned into a raving lunatic during practice. Nonetheless, after every practice Katie tumbled into bed, aching, dirty, sweaty, head pounding, but still overwhelmed by how much she cared about him. She could no longer push it back, and the harder she tried the worse it became. It rested on the surface of her thoughts, threatening to burst through the poorly-constructed barriers in her mind at some unfortunate moment.

Oliver ran to the quidditch field after his encounter with the crazed Emma and discovered an equally wild Gryffindor team. The three chasers and Harry huddled around an uproarious Fred and George. The twins were laughing so hard that they were both buckled over, Fred weakly supported by George's back as they threatened to topple over. The four surrounding them looked confused but were laughing simply because the twins looked so ridiculous.

"What is going on?" Oliver asked Katie.

Katie shrugged, biting the knuckle of her thumb in an effort to control her laughter. "We haven't been able to understand a word that they've said," she explained, falling against Oliver as she started giggling again. Oliver caught her shoulders and steadied her.

"You're all crazy!" He moved away from the chuckling Katie and exclaimed sharply, "Fred! George! Calm down!"

It took Fred and George about five minutes to completely stop laughing, and Oliver stared at them stoically the entire time, his arms folded sternly across his chest. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie, who had stopped giggling, started laughing again, imitating Oliver's army stance. Only Harry, who looked like he would rather be anywhere else, commiserated with Oliver, patting him on the shoulder and shrugging.

Fred finally began to explain after about ten minutes. "That Emma girl came running past us . . ."

"Yelling about chocolate and a new broom." George broke in.

"And she actually did a cartwheel!" At this the two broke into laughter again and Oliver slammed his hand against his head in frustration.

"We play Slytherin in two weeks! We desperately need to practice! Pull yourselves together!" he shouted, although he had to grin at the completely incomprehensible thought of Emma doing a cartwheel.

Fred and George stopped abruptly. "Don't you ever have fun?" George asked, rolling his eyes.

"Why do you hang out with that girl beater anyway?" Fred demanded, changing the subject. "You never would tell us."

"Yeah, are you trying to steal Ravenclaw strategies from her?" George nudged Oliver in the stomach, a knowing look on his face.

Oliver sighed in frustration. The Weasley twins had used several tactics over the course of September to try to get Oliver to explain why he was helping Emma. First they had teased him unceasingly, insisting that Oliver had only romantic intentions. When that produced no effects they began to badger him, convinced that he was consorting with the enemy. More recently they had decided that he must be trying to manipulate the other teams, beginning with Ravenclaw's new "girl beater" who would be easy to influence. But they had finally pushed Oliver over the edge.

"Ok, I am going to explain this to you just to get you off my back! Then we are going to practice so that Slytherin doesn't obliterate us!"

The entire team stared at him, rapt with attention for once. Maybe I should use this tactic more often, Oliver thought. It shuts them all up at least. Katie's heart was pounding in her ears. She tugged on the bottom of her robes, unable to look into Oliver's sincere eyes.

"Truthfully, I don't know why I am helping her. There didn't seem to be a good reason not to. I am not trying to steal Ravenclaw strategies, nor am I trying to influence her negatively, and I definitely don't fancy her. Are you happy?!" Oliver's face burned. As soon as he said he didn't fancy her, he began to wonder if he did. The thought that the team might somehow be able to see his embarrassing and frightening thoughts only made his face turn redder.

Fred and George were strangely pacified by this answer, but Katie felt like her heart had plummeted into her stomach, and she clutched her middle trying not to throw up. A single thought slammed against her mind: I have to get over this.

"Practice!" Oliver yelled, even more forcefully than usual. While the rest of the team practiced quidditch, Katie practiced not being affected by Oliver's mind-numbing smiles. By the end of practice she was feeling pretty good about her ability to stop liking him, but unfortunately that was because Oliver was too distracted to smile much. As they walked to the locker rooms after practice he grinned broadly at her and gave her a pleased sideways hug.

"You girls are doing really well," he told the three chasers, but Katie didn't hear. He had to go and do that, she thought, groaning inwardly. The idiot.

The next evening Oliver and Emma were working on a project in the Great Hall. It was Saturday and several other Hogwarts students were in the Great Hall as well, many of them working on homework, but several were watching Fred and George Weasley doing imitations of the different professors, and a few were practicing dueling in a corner.

"You need to move the pitcher's mound closer to home plate," Emma told Oliver. The quidditch captain had been fascinated with baseball from the first time Emma mentioned it to him. After Emma's practices she would often tell Oliver about the details of baseball, and he decided he wanted to see it played. Emma suggested that he build a model of a baseball field similar to the quidditch field model, and despite his uncertainties about the idea, Oliver's efforts were quite successful.

"Right here?" he asked, slowly moving the tiny pitcher's mound with his wand.

"A little more . . . yeah, that's good." Emma directed him.

"This is wicked! You are brilliant!" Oliver smiled endearingly at Emma who felt a jolt in her stomach. That was a new feeling, she thought, startled. But before she could think any more about it, they were interrupted by Oliver's fan club.

"Oliver, Cedric says that he thinks you're wrong about who won the World Cup in 1943. He says it was Denmark," a little second year said, tugging on the back of Oliver's red and gold Gryffindor sweater. Since the day he had discovered his fan club it had only grown, mainly because he appeared softer since he'd met Emma, but also because he actually acknowledged the girls every now and then. That night he and Cedric had started a sort of game in which they passed the girls back and forth.

Oliver awarded her a dizzying eye-raise and the tiny red head squirmed. "Well you can tell Mr. Diggory that I am positive it was Greenland and if he wants to take it up with me he can just come over here himself." The group of seven admirers went scampering back to Cedric.

"You are awful!" Emma smacked his arm, shaking her head and laughing. "I don't know how I feel about this Romeo side of you." She shook her finger in his face and Oliver grabbed it.

"I'm no Romeo. I'm just joking around." He smiled mildly to himself.

Emma pulled her finger out of his grip, raising her eyes doubtfully. "You're going to break all those little hearts. You and Cedric Diggory are a bad influence on each other, toying with little girls."

"You're right, I shouldn't treat them this way. I'm just not used to dealing with this stuff." Oliver ruffled her hair and Emma glared at him.

"Well you impossible boy, maybe you should do what Cedric used to do before your antics poisoned him. Just ignore them."

Oliver looked down at the floor and Emma scruffed the hair on the back of his neck. "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to attack you. I just know how it feels to chase after a guy like that. Those girls are vulnerable . . . there I go again. I'm done now. Let's get back to work."

The girls never returned, since Cedric decided to end the game. Oliver took Emma's words to heart, determined to be careful about how he treated his young followers. "So how are we doing? What part is next?" Oliver asked Emma, surveying the beginnings of the baseball field.

"We should get the bases made." The work was slow because Emma had to carefully describe how the different parts looked and then Oliver had to figure out what spells he could use to make things. An hour and a half later they gave up on the boring task of designing the bases.

"Let's make some people," Emma suggested.

Oliver quickly and expertly formed the basic outline of a human, and then as Emma described the first player the features slowly appeared on the human figure. "Sammy Sosa!" Emma exclaimed.

Oliver examined the tiny baseball player. "Is he famous?" he asked.

"Very. And part of the best team in America."

"Who's famous?" Fred Weasley demanded, breaking into the conversation.

"Sammy Sosa," Emma replied, eying the twins suspiciously. They had not been particularly friendly to her all term, and since her crazy behavior the day before they had teased her non-stop.

"This little guy?" George asked, picking up the miniature Sammy Sosa. "He doesn't look like a quidditch player."

"He's a baseball player," Oliver explained proudly.

"Baseball?" the twins asked together.

Emma showed them the field, trying to explain the baffling sport to the Weasley twins. They were enraptured and listened intently to Emma. That night they decided Emma was "the most wicked girl at Hogwarts" and even offered her beater tips.

Katie, Angelina, and Alicia joined the group while Emma was in the middle of her explanation. They too were very curious about the model baseball field.

"You made this?" Katie asked Oliver, while Fred and George were interrogating Emma about her American muggle cousins.

"Yeah." Oliver smiled at Katie modestly.

"It's really good." She peered closely at Sammy Sosa who was tossing a crumb-sized baseball in the air and catching it.

"Thanks," Oliver told Katie.

"Hey, why don't you boys leave Emma alone for a minute," Alicia said. Emma's eyes were drooping and she could no longer keep up with the rambunctious twins' questions but they hadn't seemed to notice.

Emma smiled gratefully at Alicia. "I'm sorry I haven't really had a chance to meet you three before," she said to Angelina, Alicia, and Katie. "I was thinking though that the female quidditch players should get together sometime. There are so few of us and we need to stand up against these arrogant boys."

The three chasers laughed appreciatively, but a grumpy Fred and George left the table, determined to display their male pride.

"Oh no. This could be very dangerous. I think I'm going to take this troublemaker away before she starts a war." Oliver turned to Emma only to see that the "troublemaker" had fallen asleep on the table.

"Emma," he said, gently shaking her shoulder.

"Go away," she grumbled. After a few minutes he got her on her feet and led her out of the Great Hall.

"You all right?" Angelina asked Katie as they watched Oliver scoop Emma up in his arms right outside the entrance to the Great Hall.

"I don't know," Katie replied, and she really wasn't sure.