Silence. That was all that could be heard in the tense air in the Gryffindor changing room. Oliver Wood paced across the floor looking nervous, sick, and determined all at once. This was it, his final chance at glory, and even his endless determination couldn’t mask his fear at this very moment. Just prior to arriving in the changing room, Oliver learned a secret that could tear his team apart, and cost him his final chance to go down in Hogwarts history. The silence was deafening, and even he, normally so full of inspiration, could not find words to speak.

Oliver stared at the fire, lost in thought. Did we train enough? Did I push them enough? What if I fail them? All these thoughts rushed through his mind. We can’t possibly lose, we’ve trained too hard. Suddenly thundering footsteps snapped Oliver out of his gaze in time for him to see Katie storming down the staircase towards him.

“What’s the matter with you?” she asked him. “Are you completely blind to what’s right in front of you?”

Oliver stared blankly at her, having no idea what she was talking about. Seeing this, Katie kept going.

“Apparently so. God, what is it with you, Oliver? You say you care about her, you say you’re her best friend, but lately all you care about is the Cup! You’re so focused on grabbing the glory while you still can that you haven’t even noticed it!”

“Aren’t you?” he asked defensively.

“Aren’t I what?” she snapped.

“Aren’t you determined to win it? Don’t you think it’s been too long coming? That we have the best team we’ve ever had, and it’s just our rotten luck that we haven’t gotten it before?”

Katie let out an incoherent scream of rage.

Oliver jumped slightly, and looked completely dumbfounded. “What did I do?”

Katie sighed to herself and mumbled under her breath, “Boys!” She shook her head before continuing. “Let me make this simple for you. Angelina, she wants to be more than friends with you.”

“She wants to be what?”

“You’re best friends, Oliver, what do you think I mean? She wants to go out with you, be your girlfriend. How blind are you?”

“Katie, I--”

“You what?”

“I could never think of her that way. We’re best friends.”

“BOYS!” Katie shouted as she slammed the portrait hole behind her.

Oliver stared at where Katie had just been. Did Angelina really think that? He couldn’t think of her like that, she was just his best friend. Anything else was unimaginable. He sat there thinking until his team started coming down the staircases and he led them out of the portrait hole.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he knew he had to get his head back in the game. The silence continued to grip everyone in the room and Oliver, finally finding the strength, stood and spoke the only words he could muster, "Okay, it's time, let’s go--”*

Oliver took a deep breath as he stepped onto the pitch. Lee’s voice sounded over the noise of the crowd, announcing the teams. As usual, Lee praised his house shamelessly and went on to declare that Slytherin appeared to be “going for size rather than skill,”* a choice that made Oliver grateful and scornful at once. On the one hand, it made his job easier �“ on the other, he almost wished he had cleverer competition.

He ignored the noise from the Slytherin section of the stands in favour of examining the sky. He smiled. It looked like conditions would hold.

Oliver approached Flint with a hard look in his eye. All that stood between him and the Cup was Flint’s team. Oliver shook hands with him, grabbing a tight hold on his hand and squeezing it really hard. They broke apart as Madam Hooch told them to mount their brooms. Waiting for the whistle to blow, Oliver wasn’t completely focused on Quidditch. Everything that Katie had said was running through his brain. He knew he had to concentrate, but every time he saw Katie or Angelina it would all come back.

How could she do that to him? They were about to have their most important match of the season and she just dropped that on him? It wasn’t something that he could just shake off; it was his best friend's feelings after all!

"Three…"* said Madam Hooch.

Everything he had thought he knew was now uncertain. What was going to happen between Angelina and him? Would they still be friends at the end of this, even though he didn’t like her as more than a friend? Did she even know that Katie had told him?

"Two..."*

And what was Angelina thinking? They…she wasn’t a girl to him. Not…well, that sounded bad, but that was how he felt, and the revelation that he was very much a boy to her made him feel both guilty and...cornered. He had to think of some way to make things all right again…

“One…”*

If he didn’t get his head in the game right now, he could lose everything. He could figure out how not to lose Angelina later…but if he lost her anyway, this was his last chance to show that he could win the Cup, if nothing else.

The whistle blew and all fourteen brooms rose into the air as everyone kicked off. The crowd roared in the background as the game began. Oliver saw Angelina’s face for a brief moment before she sped off: Katie had told her.

Oliver flew towards the goals and took his position in front of them. Keeping his eye on the game before him, he saw his team in possession of the Quaffle. Alicia was tearing down the field towards the Slytherin goals, with Katie and Angelina right behind her, ready to catch it or intercept if needed.

Oliver fought to keep from zoning out of the game again. Lee Jordan’s commentary rang bitterly in his ears as he watched Warrington intercept what should have been a perfect pass from Alicia to Angelina. Apparently Oliver wasn’t the only one who’d left a few of his brain cells in the changing room. His team wasn’t up to par, and he knew that it was all his fault. He cursed himself silently for not realising her feelings before and snapped back to attention as George nailed Warrington with a nicely aimed Bludger attack. Maybe there’s hope after all, he thought.

And then his hopes were rewarded, for Warrington dropped the Quaffle and Angelina swooped in to grab it. Oliver watched her streak down the pitch towards the Slytherin goalposts with bated breath. Come on, Angelina, come on, you can do it, faster - duck! - yes! yes! She's done it! Oliver was filled with pride in his friend. Magnificent �“ a headlong rush to the perfect goal!

Flint rudely interrupted Angelina’s moment of triumph, slamming into her and almost knocking her out of the air. "Foul!" Oliver cried, his voice lost in the crowd’s booing. "That's Blatching! Give her a penalty!"

Oliver let loose a string of curses before Madame Hooch’s whistle sounded. She seemed to agree with Oliver and awarded Gryffindor a penalty shot.

Slytherin was quickly awarded a penalty shot as well when Fred threw his bat into the back of Flint's head in retaliation.

Alicia came forward to take the Gryffindor penalty, giving Angelina a moment to recover. She held the Quaffle tightly while hovering in front of the hoops and glanced back at Oliver. The desperation on his face was clear. Alicia took a deep breath and flew straight ahead, then swerved left at the last second.

Oliver watched with bated breath as the Quaffle went in. Yes! At least Alicia isn’t distracted, he thought.

He didn’t have much time to think about it before Flint flew over to the Gryffindor goals, ready to take his penalty. Oliver watched Flint closely, trying to figure out which way he would throw it. Oliver’s jaw clenched as they both waited for Madam Hooch.

Blood was still freely flowing from Flint's nose when the whistle blew and he went to throw the Quaffle. Oliver watched carefully as Flint flew towards the right goal post and then made a sudden change.

Using what seemed like every muscle in his body, Flint heaved the Quaffle towards the leftmost goal post. Oliver, who had been in the middle of starting towards the right one, swerved left, losing a precious second as he fought his momentum. Flattening himself against his broom’s handle, he pelted after the Quaffle.

God, I’m not going fast enough! If he didn’t do something drastic within the next second or so, the Quaffle would beat him to the hoop. He threw himself forward in desperation, nearly off his broom. The solid thump of the ball against him was a relief.

“YES! I DON’T BELIEVE IT! HE’S SAVED IT!”* Lee Jordan shouted as the stands went wild.

Oliver was relieved. That had been a close one. He turned his head forward and watched as the dirtiest game of Quidditch that he had ever seen at Hogwarts unfolded before his eyes. He watched as Alicia got the ball and quickly lost it to Montague.

Katie went streaking after Montague, determined not to let Slytherin get a goal. Remembering how she had acted towards him not long before, Oliver guessed that she was putting all her anger at him into the match.

By some lucky chance, Katie got the Quaffle from Montague, and started to rush towards the goal posts. The Slytherin team all took off after her, determined to not let her make a goal. Oliver watched as Montague, flew right in front of her and grabbed her head instead of the Quaffle in her hands.

Katie tumbled forward, somehow managing to hold onto her broom and not fall off of it but losing the Quaffle in the process. Oliver was enraged; that was done on purpose! After all, how could someone mistake a head for a Quaffle?

Madam Hooch flew over to Montague and started yelling at him. Once again the two of them had the same thoughts: that was definitely deliberate.

As the yelling came to an end, Katie flew over to the goal posts to line up for the penalty. Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Katie made the goal.

Oliver’s attention snapped to Harry as he saw the Slytherin Beaters headed his way, hitting Bludgers at him. As both of them closed in on him, Oliver didn’t think Harry had a chance. He watched as Harry turned upwards and the Beaters collided.

“Yes!” Oliver shouted as he watched Harry take off again. Sadly, the Beaters managed to stay on their brooms. They seemed momentarily stunned but recovered quickly.

Flint was now in possession of the Quaffle and was bearing down on Oliver at an alarming speed. For a moment Oliver thought Flint would go right through him, but the Chaser broke right at the last moment. Oliver moved right as well and was horrified to see Flint throw the Quaffle straight through the unprotected centre hoop.

Lee swore into his megaphone and Oliver had to agree with his assessment of the situation.

Play resumed, and Angelina passed the Quaffle to Alicia, who dodged around Derrick’s Bludger and zipped off towards the Slytherin goal posts. Bole and George flanked Alicia, ready for action. Bole looked back over his shoulder every few seconds, looking for the Bludger that would surely be streaking their way soon, courtesy of Derrick. But they were getting closer to the goal posts, and none was forthcoming. Seeing this, he seemed to panic, his head whipping back and forth between Alicia, Derrick and the goal posts. Desperate to stop her, he hit Alicia in the head with his bat.

Oliver couldn’t believe what was happening. The Slytherins weren’t even trying to be subtle in their tactics anymore. He was beginning to worry that his team wouldn’t make it through the match without some major injury and a stay in the hospital wing.

Just as Madame Hooch was about to award the Gryffindors a penalty, George Weasley, face set in a determined scowl, flew alongside Bole and elbowed him right in the face. Oliver understood what made him do it, but he cursed George under his breath anyway. Now he had to worry about another penalty shot. He couldn’t fail again.

Alicia flew toward the Slytherin goals to take her shot and made it. The score was now forty-ten. Oliver looked up to see Harry circling and hoped he remembered to wait until Gryffindor was fifty points ahead, or they would lose the cup even if they won the match, and Oliver could not stand that. This was his last chance win the cup, and he would. No amount of Slytherin cheating would stop him.

He steeled himself for the penalty shot and saved the Quaffle from going through the middle hoop. They were so close.

He saw Angelina turn to look at him, the beginnings of a triumphant smile on her face, but she turned away at the last moment, her shoulders hunching. Oh no, Oliver thought. Have I hurt her that badly? Maybe I have…she’s off her game…what if she hates me for it? What if…Oh God…

He felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach.

And then he really was �“ or rather, Bludgered. It knocked all the air out of him. While he was still gasping, gathering his thoughts, another Bludger followed. He wheezed and clung to his broom for dear life.

Oliver rolled his broom, clinging to it, before he managed to sit upright again. He had gotten distracted, and it had very nearly knocked him off of his broom. If they kept going like this, no one fully concentrating on the game, they could lose the Cup.

Madam Hooch started yelling at the Beaters before calling a penalty for the attack on Oliver. Angelina took the penalty, and got the Quaffle past the Keeper without a problem. Sixty-ten.

Oliver looked at Angelina again, and shook his head, mentally chiding himself. He needed to focus, but he couldn’t stop worrying about her.

How could he not worry about her, though? She had never looked at him in that sad, defeated way before. They had been friends for so long now that he couldn’t imagine what he would do if something got in the way of their friendship. He needed to be able to laugh with her and talk with her just like always. How long had she been keeping this secret? Oliver thought about all of evenings they spent in the common room, wondering if he missed clues, but could think of anything. Maybe Katie was right, maybe he was blind.

But right now, he really needed to concentrate! If Lee’s commentating was to believed, he had missed not only one goal �“ when he was hit by those Bludgers, he supposed �“ but now two goals…the score had gone up to seventy-ten.

He focused his eyes back on the game, locating the opposition’s Chasers before locating each of his players in turn. Just as his eyes fell on Harry, he shot upwards. Oliver watched, heart in his throat, as Harry started towards the Snitch. If he caught it now �“

But Malfoy had latched onto the back of Harry’s broom, dragging him down.

“Foul!” Oliver screamed. Malfoy was doing something he’d never seen before. Slytherin was desperate for this win.

As Madam Hooch called the penalty, Oliver scanned the pitch. His team was in an uproar over it. They had almost won! So close to it, and then Malfoy had to play that dirty trick to make sure Slytherin had some more time.

Alicia took the penalty, and missed. Even from this far away he knew it was her anger at Malfoy that made her miss it. As if she wasn’t already distracted from everything else…

After the penalty, everything went downhill. Angelina wasn’t focused at all on the game anymore. She kept looking at Oliver, paying no attention at all to the game. Oliver longed to go over to her, to fix it all, but he couldn’t move away from the goal posts. The Slytherins already had the upper hand; leaving them unguarded would just seal Gryffindor’s fate.

Dammit! Oliver thought. There had to be something he could do, anything. He couldn’t just watch as his team just fell apart like his. The worst part: a big part of it was his fault.

And now that he thought about it…this was affecting Katie, too. She had good reason to be angry at the Slytherins for their Seeker’s dirty tactics �“ tactics which, Oliver reflected anxiously, might still cost them the game �“ but not that angry.

Also, that didn’t explain why she kept turning around and glaring at him, even missing an opportunity to nab the Quaffle from Montague.

Most of her anger, it seemed, was directed at him. He just hoped she wouldn’t keep this up the rest of the game.

If she had lost patience entirely with him, they were in big trouble.

Oliver’s attention quickly snapped back to Slytherin Chasers barrelling toward him. Where were his Beaters? He wanted to see what Harry was up to but he couldn’t spare a glance for anything beyond the coming attack even though he knew Harry would be furious with what Malfoy had just pulled.

Oliver tensed as he watched Montague pass to Warrington. Warrington looked like he would take the shot, but feinted and quickly passed the Quaffle right back. Montague threw the Quaffle through the left hoop before Oliver could get there.

The Slytherin stands erupted into cheers.

Oliver swore.

This game was getting worse. If it didn’t end soon…Oliver didn’t even want to consider the thought.

Oliver watched as Montague took off with the Quaffle again, and headed towards Oliver. Fred hit a Bludger towards him, causing him to drop it. Katie caught it. As Katie took off towards the Slytherin goal posts, Oliver hoped that she would be able to get past the Chasers. To his horror, though, he watched as Warrington flew right into Katie.

She should have seen that! Oliver had to do something about this, right now.

Madam Hooch called a penalty, and as Katie went to take the penalty for herself, he bellowed, “Katie, get over here!” She turned and glared at him, but he stared her down (as well as he could from that distance, anyway). She looked annoyed, but she obeyed.

“What?” she snapped.

“I want Alicia to take that penalty,” Oliver said quickly. “One of those thugs just slammed into you, I’m not letting you shoot that soon.” Katie opened her mouth to argue as Alicia agreed immediately to take her penalty. “Just-shut-up-Katie!” Oliver said in one breath. “This is really important…”

“Angelina!” Oliver called, “Over here!” She looked as though she would rather be facing the entire Slytherin team at that point, but Oliver ignored that and pointed to his wrist impatiently as if he were wearing a watch. His meaning was clear. Katie rolled her eyes but stayed quiet.

Fred and George noticed the gathering and caught Oliver’s eye. He motioned for them to join him. Alicia flew back toward her team until Madame Hooch, whom Oliver had never seen this angry before, yelled at the Slytherins. Oliver knew he needed these precious few moments to reconnect with his team.

“The Slytherins are playing the worst game I’ve ever seen. They’re murdering us out there. We need to focus. We can do this if we work together, but if we keep this anger between us we’re going to lose.” Oliver looked at Katie, specifically talking about her with that statement. “We need to act like a team. Put everything aside, and let’s win this! Let’s show these Slytherins what we’re made of.”

The whole team agreed, looking determined.

“Alicia, go take the penalty. Everyone else…we can do this. Let’s go win the Cup.”

Oliver watched with bated breath as Alicia feinted left and threw the Quaffle right �“

Straight into the Keeper’s outstretched hands.

Oliver swore, then said, “We can’t let one missed penalty shot stop us. This is our year. Let’s go.” And then play resumed and the team scattered. The Slytherin Chasers got possession of the Quaffle and made a determined rush at the Gryffindor goal posts. A double Bludger attack from the maniacally grinning twins stopped them short and Katie swooped in to grab the Quaffle. She passed it to Alicia, who dodged around Warrington and passed it back to Katie.

Angelina dropped below Katie and waited for the Slytherin Chasers to make their move. The girls had practiced this so many times that it was second nature to them. As the opposing Chasers closed in on Katie, she simply let the Quaffle fall �“ right into Angelina’s waiting hands.

Angelina urged her broom faster toward the Slytherin goals. For some reason no one was trying to attack her. Then she saw why. A wall of green stood between her and the hoops. There was no way around. Out of the corner of her eye Angelina saw a flash of scarlet.

Harry came to her rescue, effectively scattering all of the Slytherins. The way for Angelina was clear. As she scored, Oliver cheered from the other side of the pitch. He’d known she could do it.

Oliver’s attention was quickly taken off of Angelina, though, as Harry took off. He followed his movements and saw Malfoy also speeding after something. The Snitch, they saw the Snitch! Everyone on the pitch and in the stands must have also noticed Malfoy and Harry taking off, because for the moment everyone followed them, watching their every move.

Oliver felt tension humming through all of his muscles, despite the fact that he was hovering perfectly still at a safe distance from the frantic race to the Snitch. He could see nothing, for the moment, but Harry and Malfoy. Harry was gaining inch by agonizing inch. It was close �“ Malfoy was close �“ “COME ON HARRY, CATCH UP WITH THAT GIT!” he found himself shouting, his voice lost amid the roar of the crowd, as Harry dodged a Bludger. Come on, come on, come on, he prayed. This is my last chance!

And then Harry plucked the Snitch out of the air.

The crowd exploded in cheers. They’d done it! They’d won the Cup! Oliver took off towards Harry, with tears forming in his eyes; he was that happy. His final match and they had won it.

Reaching Harry, Oliver grabbed him by the neck and sobbed on his shoulder, still hovering in the air. His team had made him proud; they’d pulled it together and shown everyone what a team really looks like.

The rest of the team flew towards to Harry and Oliver and it all turned into a group hug of sorts, with the girls yelling in excitement about winning.

The whole team was ecstatic as they descended to the ground. A stream of Gryffindors came and hoisted them into the air, carrying them over to Dumbledore, who waited for them with the Quidditch Cup in his hands. Oliver couldn’t stop sobbing as he took the Cup, and handed it to Harry, the one who had made it all possible for them. As Harry lifted it up in the air, Oliver didn’t think he could have been any prouder. They had pulled it together, despite everything else.

~*~

Walking into the Gryffindor common room, Oliver found a party awaiting the team.

He marvelled at how, having banded together themselves at the last minute, his team seemed to have brought the whole rest of his house together as well. There was an air of giddy happiness in the common room, and everyone seemed to want to stop by to congratulate him.

Everyone except the one who mattered most.

Angelina stood talking to Katie and her friend Leanne. She hadn’t so much as glanced his way since they had entered the common room. He was certain of it �“ he’d been staring too hard not to notice if she had.

What would happen with them now? They couldn’t work things out unless she’d talk to him. And even if Angelina came over to talk to him…what would he say? Did he have feelings for her?

Oliver started to think long and hard about Angelina. She had always been his best friend, ever since they’d met as kids, and it was hard to think of her as anything else. But now that Katie had said something…was it possible for them to become more than just friends? After all, she was quite pretty.

I can’t believe I’m thinking that! thought Oliver.

But he was. Angelina was a good-looking girl, there was no denying that. Anyone who drew her attention was a lucky guy, including him. Staring at her now, Oliver knew he had to go over there and get her alone to talk, but he didn’t know how to do it. His emotions were scattered all over the place, and he wasn’t quite sure anymore of anything. Maybe he really did like her, and he was too blind to acknowledge his feelings along with hers. Maybe there really was something between them, something beyond normal friendship.

Well, there was only one way to find out. He had to talk to Angelina. And after all…he’d just led Gryffindor to win the Quidditch Cup. Surely not even Felix Felicis could compare to that.

Oliver took a deep breath, steeled himself, and walked determinedly over to where she stood.

“Hey, Angelina,” he said. “We need to talk.”