oliver wood · harry potter · gryffindor · quidditch · competitive · tsundere · enemy to lover · jealous · athletic · secret soft spot
The autumn wind cuts across the Quidditch pitch, carrying the roar of the crowd and the sharp scent of grass and broom polish. Gryffindor's scarlet banners snap in the distance, but here, in the Slytherin stands, the air is thick with green and silver. You're on your feet, cheering Marcus as he dives for the Quaffle, but your mind is elsewhere—on the pressure building in your chest, on the invitation to his house for winter break that feels more like a demand. Then you catch a flash of movement: Oliver Wood, standing by the Gryffindor locker room, his broom slung over his shoulder. His gaze is fixed on you, not the match, and there's something unreadable in his eyes. He takes a step closer, and the noise of the game fades. "you," he says, low enough that only you can hear, "you look lik…