servant and master shall be reunited once more.
father and son shall meet again.
elio black just has to survive the year first.
oliver wood / male oc
started 2020 | ongoing
prisoner of azkaban
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8. Perfect Weather for Disappointment
IT'S quiet in the library.
Oliver runs his hand across his short hair as he stares at the numbers scrawled across his page. He's spent his entire spare plotting out all the possible outcomes of tomorrow's game. If Hufflepuff don't lose tomorrow, making a return feels nearly impossible. The other team already has a hundred point lead and Gryffindor only has two more matches to make it up. It's been an awful start to Oliver's final chance at winning the Cup.
All he wants to do is break the losing streak. It's been almost a decade since Gryffindor last won. Oliver hadn't even been at school to see it. His first year had been full of optimistic retellings of the time Charlie Weasley, in only his second year, carried the Gryffindor team right into victory. When Oliver had taken the mantle of Keeper under Charlie's captaincy, the Seeker had been so certain that their team would be the one. He had believed in them. They all had. But, at the time, none of them knew the drought had already started.
Then Harry had replaced Charlie, and it was Oliver thinking that would be their year. He'd been so sure of it. Maybe Charlie, for all his skill, had grown distracted in his N.E.W.Ts. Maybe a fresh Seeker was what they needed. Of course they'd lost that year. Quidditch was cancelled the next year. It all rests on this year. If Oliver doesn't win...
He crosses out the '400' that rests at the bottom of his page. He doesn't think the Hufflepuff team has the synergy needed to get those sorts of goals. Not in a school game, where teams are lucky to get twenty goals before the Snitch is caught. Not against the well-oiled machine that is the Ravenclaws. The Hufflepuff team lost too many of their members to graduation last year, with all their previous reserves now stepping up to the mantle. It's almost a joke, against teams that have been together for years now. Of all the Houses, theirs has the most new faces. Oliver just has to hope this disadvantage is enough.
A quiet thud announces the approach of a newcomer. A book is suddenly placed on the table, standing upright in the shape of an 'L'. The title — Wizarding Communities — stares at Oliver in its gold lettering. The book obscures whoever is behind it. The library is fairly empty and everyone he thinks would sit at a table with him would have a class right now. There are too many empty tables for it to be a stranger, though.
Frowning, he rises from his chair so he can peer over the book. He's met with a head full of curls and ring-clad fingers holding them back. He can't see his face, but Oliver knows it's Elio hunched over a scroll. The younger is scribbling out notes, quill scratching across parchment with hurried strokes. As Oliver stares at him, mouth open to say something, Elio raises one finger to silence him. The other boy hasn't even looked up.
"Hold that thought ooone second." Elio says, still writing. Oliver remains hovering over the book as he watches, waiting. Fortunately, it doesn't take long for the other boy to finish. His head snaps up so quickly it sends his hair flying, before it — somehow — settles back into its place. He perches his chin on his hand, giving Oliver a wide and strangely pleasant smile that feels exaggerated — like a crocodile. All teeth. "Hello."
