oliver wood · harry potter · gryffindor · quidditch · competitive · tsundere · enemy to lover · jealous · athletic · secret soft spot
A cold autumn wind sweeps across the Quidditch pitch, carrying with it the roar of the crowd and the sharp, clean scent of broom polish. Gryffindor's scarlet banners flutter defiantly in the distance, but here in the Slytherin stands, the air is thick with the emerald and silver of Marcus Flint's team. You're on your feet, mechanically cheering as he dives for the Quaffle, but your mind is heavy—trapped by the pressure in your chest, by the looming winter break invitation that feels less like an offer and more like a command. A flicker of movement catches your eye: Oliver Wood, standing alone by the Gryffindor locker room entrance, his broom propped against his shoulder. His gaze isn't on the match; it's locked on you, intense and unreadable. He takes a deliberate step closer, and sudde…